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Letters from Colonial Children 



L E T T E E S 

from 

Colonial Children 

By EVA MARCH TAPPAIS^ 




BOSTON AND NEW YORK 

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 

MDCCCCVIII 



FIBBARY of WNGRtsSl 
I wo CoDles Receive* 

AUG 25 li*08 



COPYRIGHT 1907 BY EVA MARCH TAPPAN 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



Published September IQ08 



PREFACE 

These letters are planned to give an idea of how life in 
some of the rej^resentative American colonies might have 
seemed to children, not necessarily the children of 1607 
or 1733, as it may be, for, save in the case of one or two 
colonies, material for such precision of delineation is 
utterly lacking, but to the child mind rather than the 
adult mind. I have aimed at historical accuracy except 
in regard to the language employed. To sprinkle the 
pages with seventeenth-century phrases would have been 
a simple matter ; but to reproduce with any degree of 
verisimilitude the familiar parlance of the children of 
three centuries ago would have been impossible. It 
seemed Aviser, therefore, to trust to modern Enolish and 
not attempt Avhat must at best have been only an unsat- 
isfactory imitation. 

Eva March Tappan. 

Worcester, Massachusetts, 
Febi^avT/ 4. 1908. 



co:n^text8 



I. A Letter written by Will Newton, an English 

boy in Virginia, to a boy friend in England . 1 

The voyage to America — Captain John Smith — what hap- 
pened at the Canary Islands — the Western Islands — strange 
birds and beasts — new food — lost on the ocean — going 
ashore — an attack by the Indians — who shall be council- 
lors? — Indian courtesies — an invitation to dinner — a real 
chief — founding a city — treatment of Captain Smith — 
recompense. 

II. A Second Letter from Will Newton in Virginia 

to a boy friend in England . . . .20 

A famine — Captain Smith gets food — the Okee — explor- 
ing the Chickahominy — Captain Smith is taken prisoner — 
sends a message to Jamestown — he is brought before Pow- 
hatan — is rescued by Pocahontas — returns to Jamestown — 
visits of Pocahontas — arrival of Captain Newport — trading 
with Powhatan — the blue beads — a search for gold — going 
home. 

III. A Letter written by Henri Lamotte in Canada 

to his little brother Guillaume in France . 40 

Newfoundland — the demon of Pere^ Rock — trouble at Ta- 
dousac — the Saguenay — up the St. Lawrence to Quebec 
— "The Rock"" — choosing a place for a settlement — why 
cannon are needed — Champlain's three wishes — building 

vii 



CONTENTS 

the houses — the Indians and their eels — making ready for 
cohl weather — winter occupations — the Indians in the river 

Indian dreams — sickness at Quebec — visions of Brouage 

the eomino- of spring — stories of Port Royal — the arrival 

of Ponto-rave — Champlain's Indian visitors — the expedition 
against the Iroquois — the Indians' gift to Chaniplain — 
Indian beliefs — presents for the king and for Guillaume. 

TV. A Second Letter from Henri Lamotte in Canada 

to his brother Guillaume in France . .78 

The visits of the white boy and the Indian boy — unwelcome 
fur traders — the Indians greet Champlain — good news for 
the two brothers. 

V. A Letter written at Plymouth by John Billing- 
ton to his Grandmother in England . . 85 

An aggrieved boy — the Compact — kindness of Captain 
Miles Standish — searching for a place to settle — Corn Hill 

— the Place of the First Encounter — shipwreck — landing 
at Plymouth — building — fishing — the single man — Bil- 
lington Sea — lost in the woods — meeting wolves — sickness 

— signs of Indians — Samoset visits Plymouth — the coming 
of Massasoit's men — Squanto — Massasoit and Quadequina 
are entertained at Plymouth — catching eels — Mr. Billing- 
ton's troubles — an unwilling Pilgrim. 

VL A Second Letter from John Billington to his 

Grandmother in England . . . .113 

Squanto's teachings — a visit to Massasoit — John starts for 
Virginia — visits the Indians at Nauset — taken home by the 
Pilgrims — greeting of the Governor — interview with Cap- 
tain Standish — discontent of John's parents. 

viii 



CONTENTS 

VII. A Third Letter from John Billington to his 

Grandmother in Enghmd . . . .123 

An Indian declaration of war — a fortified village — the 
plague — Christmas games — good resolutions — an invitation. 

YIII. A Letter from Adelina Herrington, on her 

way to Mary hind, to Clarice Armitage in Paris 128 

Leaving the convent — a new kind of English girl — to go to 
America or not? — the independence of Maryland — what to 
carry into a wilderness — a business girl — leaving Graves- 
end — called back — a terrible storm — the story of Father 
White — the three pirates — among the islands. 

IX. A Second Letter from Adelina Herrington of 
Maryland to Clarice Armitage in Paris . .141 

The coming of the English ship — a visit to Virginia — the 
Potomac — landing on St. Clement's Island — building an 
altar — setting up a cross — reception at an American court 
— the visit of the emperor and other Indian guests — dedicat- 
ing a church — Aunt Alicia and the velvet gown — " Sup- 
posing?" 

X. A Letter from Harry Maxon of Naumkeag 

(Salem), in Massachusetts, to his Aunt Eleanor 

in England . . . . . . .156 



Mr. Higginson's farewell — how Harry came to start for 
Massachusetts — he becomes an heir — friends on board — 
ocean sights — a discussion — the death of Nero — losing a 
ship — nearing Cape Ann — Harry finds a home. 

ix 



CONTENTS 

XL A Second Letter from Harry Maxon to his Aunt 

in England • -164 

Harry seven years older — "a real merchant"' — starving- 
times — the coming of the charter — Morton of Merry Mount 
and his arrest — forming a church — shall the prayer-book 
be permitted ? — Governor Endicott cuts the cross from the 
flag — Roger Williams — Harry's plans. 

XI L A Letter written by Thomas Angell of Provi- 
dence to his Uncle in England . . .175 

A search for Roger Williams — his house is discovered — Mr. 
Williams decides to found a settlement — where shall it be? — 
'• What cheer ! " — a Rhode Island feast — Roger Williams's 
visit to Canonicus — the coming of colonists — hard times in 
Providence — Mr. Winslow's visit — how Providence was 
named and laid out. 

XIIL A Letter written by Polly Bergen of New 

Amsterdam to her Aunt in England . .188 

The will of Polly's father — first views of America — the 
Dutch people on the wharf — the coming of Uncle Pieter and 
Aunt Catarina — the houses of New Amsterdam — Governor 
Stuyvesant — " home." 

XIY. A Second Letter from Polly Bergen to her 

Aunt in England . . . . . .201 

Polly's first night- in America — the cowherd — Polly's room 

— Dutch eatables — the kitchen — the dark parlor — the 
spinning-room — the sitting-room — the kos — no girl friends 

— the fireplace, cupboard, bookshelf, Bible, slaapbank — 



CONTENTS 

New Amsterdam girls and amusements — bees — reading 
Shakespeare. 

XY. A Third Letter from Polly Bergen to her Aunt 

in England 218 

The i^incushion across the road — the Indians and their ways 

— Indian money — a false alarm — the coming of the English 
ships — the meeting of the council — Colonel Nicoll's letter 

— a strong-willed governor — the surrender of the town. 

XVI. A Fourth Letter from Polly Bergen to her 

Aunt in England 232 

Polly's wish comes true. 

XYIL A Letter written by Judith March of New- 
bury, Massachusetts, to her cousin, Anna Mait- 
land, in England 233 

A spoiled birthday — Judith's punishment — the coming of a 
stranger — great news — the opening of Albania — the silken 
hood and scarf — the reading of the proclamation. 

XVIIL A Second Letter from Judith March of 
Newbury to her cousin, Anna Maitland, in 
England 240 

Judith's father goes to Albania — the new settlement — a 
good chance for colonists — a fertile land — catching her- 
ring — the sale of Albania — the coming of Philip Carteret 

— a tardy welcome — the new governor's pi'omises — a new 
name for the province. 

xi 



CONTENTS 

XIX. A Letter written by Timothy Holden of 
Pennsylvania to his Cousin Henry in England 249 

How to begin a letter — Timothy longs to see London — a 
Quaker meeting — coming to America — Timothy's Indian 
playmate Tamaqua — catching wild turkeys — how to make 
a canoe — visiting Tamaqua's father — Timothy " conforms " 
— the plans of William Penn — Penn and the king — un- 
certainty of Penn's coming — the arrival of William Mark- 
ham — how Pennsylvania was named — Penn's letters to the 
colonists and to the Indians — choosing a site for the city — 
Timothy and Tamaqua go to meet the governor — taking 
seisin — the homes of the Swedish settlers — sailing up the 
river with the governor — celebrating as the " world's people " 
do — the two boys land at Chester — " worldly pride." 

XX. A Second Letter from Timothy Holden to his 
Cousin Henry 272 

Some great news — a visit to Philadelphia — the governor 
and the Indians — the governor leaps higher than they — the 
plan of the town — building the house — how the boys went 
to market — the market of the Swedes and the Indians — 
pop-robins — the kindness of the Indians — the treaty at 
Shackamaxon — the wampum belt — the caves — the houses 
of Philadelphia — Pennsbury — the names of the streets — 
the boys rent a cave — going to school — the post rider. 

XXI. A Letter written by Bessie Clinton of London 

to '' Sister Margaret " 289 

The make-believe sister — the country home — Bessie's 
homes in London — trying to find work — a meeting with 
Daniel Defoe — the baker's bill — Bessie's wish. 



CONTENTS 

XXII. A Second Letter from Bessie Clinton to 

" Sister Margaret " 296 

Bessie's wish comes true — Bessie's old friend Alice — the day 
when " Robinson Crusoe " was sold — turned out of doors — 
the meeting- with Governor Oglethorpe — the new land — 
the debtors' prison — on shipboard. 

XXIII. A Third Letter from Bessie Clinton to 

" Sister Margaret" ..... 306 

The first sight of land — going ashore — kindness of the 
people of Charleston and Beaufort — going to Savannah — 
putting up the first shelters — a busy morning — Governor 
Oglethorpe's visit to Tomo-chi-chi — the coming of the In- 
dians — the council — how Tomo-chi-chi managed his men 
— forgotten details — the silkworms. 



LETTERS 

FROM COLOmAL CHILDREN 



A Letter ivritten by Will Newton, an English boy 
in Virginia, to a boy friend in England 



Jamestown in Virginia, 
June 15, 1607. 

I LEANED over the gunwale and waved my cap and watched 
you wave yours till you looked like a post shaking its head. 
Then I could n't see any head. Then the post was only a dot. 
Then there was not even a dot. Somehow I had not realized 
till that minute that I could n't go to America without leaving 
England, and for a little while I almost wished I was a real 
wooden post on the wharf just to be back again. 

All that was nearly six months ago, and now I am a great 
traveler, colonist, and explorer. What do you think of that, 
Dicky boy ? I 've seen more strange sights in one day than you 
could see in England in a month of Sundays. There are three 
of us boys, and we stick together fairly well ; but I 'd give up 
the other two for you any time of day or night. Even those 

1 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

first six weeks on the ship would n't have been so bad if you 
had been there. The wind blew from every point of the com- 
pass except the right one ; the water was so rough that more 
than half the men were seasick ; and the boat was so crowded 
that they were lucky if they could find an inch of room to lie 
down on deck. Master Hunt, our preacher, was so badly off 
that the doctor was afraid he would never see his home again 
— and all this time he could almost catch sight of his own chim- 




A SHIP OF THE PERIOD 



ney, for that whole six weeks we hung just off the coast of 
England. Sometimes there was only a bank of fog, but some- 
times we could see the cliffs ; and it is no wonder that we all 
began to feel sober. The worst of it was the day before Christ- 

2 



WILL NEWTON OF JAMESTOWN 

mas. We thought of the good times everybody would have on 
land while we were tossing about on the water, and not getting 
ahead any more than if we were tied to the bottom of the 
ocean. 

I don't know what we should have done if it had not been 
for Captain Smith. Captain Newport is the captain of our 
ship; Captain Gosnold, who made a voyage to the 'New World 
four years ago, is captain of the .other; Captain Ratcliffe com- 



Hi/J t^re£ fm^fe. Cewbalu Before rf. oaT.T. in TRAN^SHVANTA 
Hw Encounter with TVRBASIIAW 




CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH'S FIRST COMBAT WITH THE TURKS 

mands the pinnace; and Captain John Smith is a captain in 
the army. He is twenty-seven years old, only twelve years 
older than you and I; but he has been everywhere and seen 
everything. He has fought the Spaniards and the Turks; he 

3 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

has been a slave in Turkey and worn around his neck an iron 
collar with a hook to it so it would be easier to catch him if 
he tried to run away. He says that he has had enough of fight- 
ing, and he has come to A^irginia to try his luck in the N'ew 
World. He does not put on any airs, and he is just as ready to 
talk to us boys as to the gentlemen. It is rather hard to get 




CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH'S SECOND COxVIBAT WITH THE TURKS 



him started to talking about his adventures; but when he has 
once begun, he '11 tell the best stories you ever heard. As I 
said, I don't know how we should ever have gone through 
Chi-istmas if it had not been for him. He went about from one 
to another, trying to cheer people up, and we boys followed 
on to hear what he would say. " Come, rouse up ! " he called 

4 



WILL NEWTON OF JAMESTOWN 

out to one man. "You're an Englishman, and wherever an 
Enghshman is, he must be jolly on Christmas." He cheered 
us up in spite of ourselves. He started some games, and we 
played them as well as we could on ship; and he pei'suaded 
the cook to make us a monstrous pudding and a plum cake; 
and so the day passed. 




CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH'S THIRD COMBAT WITH THE TURKS 



It was near the end of January before we were fairly away 
from England, and then we steered straight for the Canary 
Islands. Something happened there that made us boys pretty 
angry. You see. Captain Smith knew more than any one else. 
He had seen more and done more, and when nobody knew 
what to do, he could always suggest something. When the 

5 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

other men quarreled, he and Master Hunt talked to them as 
if they were children, and tried to persuade them to behave. 
Anybody could see that Captain Smith and Master Hunt were 
two of the very best men on board. Some of the others were 
jealous and angry. They did not dare do anything to Master 
Hunt, because he was a minister; but they put their heads 
together and made up a fine story about Captain Smith. They 
said that he and some friends of his in the other two vessels 
were planning to murder the chief men and make him king of 
the country. Of course he never thought of any such thing; 
but they decided to keep him a prisoner till they came to 
Virginia, and then make up their minds what to do with him. 
We boys were angry enough, and some of the men were as 
angry as we. Captain Smith was cooler than all of us together. 
"Never mind, boys," he used to say; "I've been in worse 
places than this. Maybe they '11 even build a gallows for me, 
but they won't persuade me to use it." 

All this while we were sailing on, for we stayed at th-e Cana- 
ries only five days, and then we went pretty nearly west ; and 
for three whole weeks we were among the Western Islands. 
I tell you, Dick, they were worth seeing. The water was so 
clear and blue that Ave could see shells, I don't know how many 
feet down. The sand was so white that it fairly dazzled my 
eyes. The woods are not the least bit like ours in England. 
Most of the trees have hard, shiny leaves like ivy and holly, 
and the vines of all sorts fairly run wild. But when you come 

6 



WILL NEWTON OF JAMESTOWN 

to the birds — I tell you, Dick, I never saw anything like 
them. Of course the ducks and geese and pigeons are much 
like ours ; but there are bright green parrots — you ought 
to hear the noise they keep up in the trees! And just fancy 
a bird not much bigger than a goose, but mounted on stilts for 
legs and with a neck so long that it could stretch right over 
the head of the tallest man. That is the flamingo. It is all 
bright scarlet, and it is certainly the most gorgeous thing I 
ever saw except one other bird that lives in this wonderful 
country. This last bird is as small as the flamingo is large. We 
have seen some not so big as the end of my thumb. They are 
crimson or green or orange or all colors together. They eat 
honey from the flowers, but they do not alight to take it, — they 
only flutter their wings so fast that they keep up in the air. 
They make a soft little humming noise. There are all sorts of 
fruit, too. I can't begin to tell you the names of half the things 
that we had to eat. There were oranges and lemons and figs 
and a dozen other kinds of fruit that I never saw before. We 
tried everything that the natives ate. You ought to have seen 
me roasting a parrot and then eating it, as if I had eaten parrots 
every day of my life. There were tortoises like monstrous tur- 
tles, and we ate those, too. We ate all kinds of queer fishes; 
but the strangest creature of all was one that the natives call 
the iguana. It is the ugliest lizard that I ever saw. It is three 
feet long and covered with little scales. All down the ridge of 
its back is a row of prickles. Some of these monsters are gray 

7 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

and some are green. I don't know which is the more hideous, 
but we ate both kinds. This strange country even cooked our 
food, for on one of the islands we found a spring so hot that 
we boiled our meat in it. 

I should have liked to sail around among those islands for a 
year; and I believe there would have been something new to 
see every day ; but after three weeks we set off for Roanoke 
Island. You know that is where Sir Walter Raleigh sent out 
his settlers twenty years ago. No one ever knew what became 
of them ; and it began to look as if no one would ever know 
what became of us, for we sailed on and on, but still we did not 
come to land. Everybody felt rather uneasy. The men began 
to whisper together, and before long some of them declared 
they did not believe the Captain had any idea where we were. 
After a while the truth came out. According to the reckoning 
we ought to have been at Roanoke Island three days before, 
and we were fairly lost. I '11 own up, Dick, and say honestly 
that I did wish I was at home again. I never said so, though ; but 
Captain Ratcliffe, who commands the pinnace, came out openly 
and declared there was no use in hunting for Roanoke, that the 
best thing we could do was to go straight back to England. 
" What a coward he is ! " the men said ; but I think more than 
one of them felt the same, though they Avouldn't admit it. We 
(lid n't feel any better when the sky grew dark and the wind 
l)egan to blow a gale, and we had to scud under bare poles all 
night long. It Avas a pretty good storm, though, after all; for 

8 . 



Safyut/'ahattcyh 




PART OF DE LAET'S MAP OF VIRGINIA. 
9 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

before it was really light in the morning, the watch called, 
" Land ahead ! " and there we were off the coast. This land 
proved to be a cape pointing to the north. We named it Cape 
Henry for the Prince of Wales. N"orth of it is another cape, as 
we learned afterwards, pointing south, and this we named Cape 
Charles for the king's second son. 

We were half wild to be on land, and before long Captain 
N'ewport and twenty-live or thirty others were ready to go 
ashore. I was fairly hungry to go with them. I would have 
given my head to go ; but I knew there would n't be any use in 
asking when every man on the ship wanted to go as much as I. 
I suppose I looked as if I was ready to jump overboard, and 
all at once Captain N^ewport turned to me and said, " You don't 
weigh much. In with you," and in two seconds I was on my 
way to land. 

It seemed strange enough to step on a shore where no white 
man had ever been; but nothing happened any more than it 
would if I had put my foot down in a London street, and I 
began to look around. There were meadows and brooks and tall 
trees. There were more flowers than I ever dreamed of before, 
and there were strawberries red as red and four times as big as 
they are in England. There was something else, too ; for while 
we were picking berries, one of the men cried, " Look over 
there on that hill ! " We looked, and there were five Indians 
creeping down hill on all fours like so many bears. They carried 
their bows in their mouths, and as soon as they found that we 

10 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

had seen them, they jumped up and began to shoot at us. We 
had been too eager to get ashore to think much about arms, 
but there were a few muskets among us, and we fired. The 
Indians shot and then they ran; but two of our men were pretty 
badly hurt. We ran, too, for nobody knew how many Indians 
might be over the hills just out of sight; and we were not sorry 
when we were on the ship again. 

Something happened on shipboard that night that made us 
boys chuckle. You see, the Company in England that sent us 
over here did not say who were to be the members of the Coun- 
cil. They put it all on paper, shut the paper into a box, and 
sealed the box. Then they gave orders that it should be kept 
shut till we had come to Virginia. Well, it was opened that 
night. Captain Gosnold's name came first, and the second 
was John Smith ! We did not dare to say a word aloud, but we 
slipped off to the very bow of the boat and put our heads close 
together and whispered, " Hui'rah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! " and it 
sounded as loud to us as if we had shouted it. 

When we w^ent back, everybody was talking about the Com- 
pany's orders. You know it cost them a good deal of money to 
bring us over here, and the}^ expect us to find some gold mines 
at least; but the thing they really want most is that we should 
discover a passage to the South Sea. If we can find that, they 
can trade with China and Japan, and England will be rich 
enough to cover her houses with gold. 

The first thing to do was to find the right kind of place for a 

12 



WILL NEWTON OF JAMESTOWN 

settlement. And in foui* days we left Cape Heniy on our left 
and sailed straight into what some of the men think is a great 
bay and others think may be the Passage itself. Captain New- 
])ort and some of the other men Avent ashore — and they took 
their muskets this time. Pretty soon they caught sight of five 
badly scared Indians — the red men seem to hunt in fives. The 
Captain wanted to make friends with them, and it must have 
been a funny sight to see him rubbing his hand on his heart 
and smiling and bowing to them like a Frenchman. The In- 
dians came up to the mark like white men and contrived some- 
how to invite our people to visit their town a little way off and 
eat dinner. The dinner was chiefiy corn bread, but they smoked 
tobacco afterwards, and then there Avas a dance. It must have 
been a sight worth seeing. The men said that one Indian stood 
in the middle with the others all around him. They howled and 
stamped and leaped and made up faces. I do hope I can see 
it some day; but I've seen something already worth two of 
that. Honestly, Dick, I do believe I am the luckiest boy in the 
colony. Indeed, I know I am, for there are just three of us, 
and I am the only one that went. You know we brought a 
shallop with us already to be put together. Now one day on 
the ship one of the gentlemen adventurers pushed me out of 
his way and growled, " Get out, you carpenter's youngster! " 
I felt pretty mad at the time, but I 've discovered that it is a 
fine thing to be a carpenter's youngster. You see, I had been 
helping father on the boat, and when he jumped in, some one 

13 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

said, " Let the boy go, too; we have n't really tried the boat yet 
and his father may need help." You'd better believe it did n't 
take me long to get in, and I made myself as small as ever I 
conld for fear some one wonld say there was n't room enough. 
Xow open yonr eyes wide, Dicky boy, for we were going to 
pay a \nsit to a real chief. This was n't any " happening in to 
dinner" like the other time; we had been regularly invited, 
and the chief had sent one of his men to show us the way. Up 
the river we paddled. It winds about a good deal and the shores 
are rather low and marshy. The Lidians call it the Powhatan, 
but I heard some of the men talking about naming it the James 
in honor of the king, unless we find a river that is larger. 

We went more than fifty miles, and then our guide drew up 
to the shore and pointed up the bank; and I tell you, Dick, 
there was a sight away beyond the king and the lord mayor 
and the Globe Theatre all put together. I heard something that 
sounded like a flute, and in a minute or two the queerest-look- 
ing object you ever saw stood at the top of the bank. His head 
came in sight first, and that was a big show all by itself. His 
hair was done up in a knot, and around it was a sort of wreath 
made of some kind of hair colored bright red. This was on one 
side of his head. On the other was a flat plate of copper; but 
how it was made to stay there I don't know. Between the 
wreath and the plate, two long quills stuck straight up like 
horns. Ilis face was painted blue with bits of something 
sprinkled over it that looked like silver. There was a big hole 

14 



WILL NEWTON OF JAMESTOWN 



in each ear, and the claw of some kind of bird, set in either 
copper or gold, had been put through each hole. The ends of 
the claws kept catching in the long strings of pearls that were 
hung over his ears or else through some smaller holes, I could n't 
tell which. Shouldn't I like to see him on London Bridge, 




VIRGINIA INDIAN IN WINTER COSTUME, AND AN INDIAN VILLAGE 

though ! He stepped toward us and motioned us to come up 
the bank. Some of his men spread a big woven mat on the 
ground, and that comical creature sat down with as much dig- 
nity as if he had been a king opening Parliament. After a 
while he got up and beckoned to us to follow him to his village. 

15 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

There he had had a feast made ready of fish and strawberries 
and a kind of bread made of corn. Was n't I glad that I was 
a carpenter's son ! 

But don't fancy that we spend all our time going visiting. 
Why, we have founded a city, Dick, just think of that ! It is 
on a little peninsula that extends into the James River. Caj)- 
tain Gosnold says it is too low and marshy, but President 
Wingfield likes it, and Captain Smith says it is a fine place for 
a big town some day. One thing is sure, — there won't be any 
trouble in miloading vessels, for the water is so deep that big 
ships can sail right up to the shore and tie to the trees. Every- 
body has worked hard. Some have been cutting down trees and 
clearing the ground for tents and gardens; some have been 
making nets ; and some have been splitting clapboards, for 
Ca^Dtain ^N^ewport expects to sail for home in three or four 
weeks, and he wants to carry a cargo of them. We have built 
a church, too. The walls are made of rails nailed to the trees. 
The roof is an old sail stretched overhead. A board fastened 
to two trees near together is the pulpit. The seats will never 
break down, for they are just bare logs laid in rows. Master 
Hunt reads prayers morning and evening, and on Sunday he 
preaches two sermons. We have to keep awake whether we 
want to or not, for it is n't easy to dream and sit on a log at 
the same time. 

The Indians made us friendly visits, but I noticed that 
Captain Smith kept his eye on them. It is shameful the way 

16 



WILL NEWTON OF JAMESTOWN 




GETTING SETTLED AT JA:MEST0WN 



he has been treated. We thought it would be all right Avheii 
we found that his name was in the box; but the other coun- 
cilors decided that he should not be in the Council. They called 
him a prisoner all this time, but they were not ashamed to make 
him work for them, and al)out two weeks ago they sent him off 
with Captain Newport and twenty others to explore the river. 
President Wingfield thought that there was not any need of a 
fort or a watch ; but while Captain Smith was gone the Lidians 
attacked us, and now we have the cannon mounted. There is 
always a guard, and we have regular drills and exercises. 

17 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

Xow I '11 tell you something fine about Captain Smith. Presi- 
dent Wingfielcl and the other men who hated him just because 
he was so much brighter and cleverer than they put their heads 
together and thought out a plan. They said that they really 
pitied Captain Smith, because when they had told what they 




FIGHTING THE INDIANS. 



knew of his wickedness he w^ould be so despised by every man 
in the colony. They thought it would be far more kind to him 
to permit him to return to England and be tried there. Captain 
Smith saw straight through their tricks, and he said, " N^o, you 
have accused me and made me a prisoner, and I demand to be 

18 



WILL NEWTON OF JAMESTOWN 

tried here." They could n't be " kind " to him against his will, 
so they had to agree to have a trial. They brought up one 
charge after another, and Captain Smith proved that every 
one was false. Then what do you think the people did? They 
declared that President Wingfield and the others had tried to 
injure Captain Smith out of nothing but hatred and malice, 
and they sentenced the President to pay him £200 ! Was n't 
that a victory ! When the money, or as much of it as President 
Wingfield had, was given to him, he took it without a word; 
but after a little while he gave it to the treasurer to use for the 
whole colony. Then Master Hunt went about talking to one 
after another and persuading them to forgive and forget. They 
all like him, and they agreed to like one another as well as they 
could. Captain Smith is in the Council now, where he belongs, 
and we are as peaceful as a millpond. Even the Lidians sent 
messengers to say that they wanted to be good friends with 
us. There will not be any more trouble with them, and we can 
go on and make our city. Captain Newport is going to sail in 
a day or two ; but he is coming back in four or five months to 
bring us more provisions. I wish you were here, Dick. It is 
more fun to be a colonist than anything else in the world. I 
would n't give it up for all London. 

Your old friend. Will. 

P. S. I have n't written this letter all at once by any means, 
and you need n't think I shall ever write another as long. 



11 

A Second Letter from Will Newton, in Virginia^ 
to a hoy friend in Enfjland 



Jamestown in Virginia, 
August 26, 1608. 

CAPTAix Newport had not l^een gone a week before I 
wonld have given my pint of mouldy wheat and barley to 
be on the ocean with him in a ship headed for England. Yon 
need not laugh, Dick, for that is what each one of us had for 
his daily rations. The grain had lain in the ship so long that 
it was mouldy and full of weevils too. Every morning we put 
the daily allowance of us all into a great kettle and boiled it. 
Then it was given out, weevils and all ; and we were so nearly 
starved that the only thing we complained of was that there 
was so little of it. You see, when the ship was here, we could 
always get good food of the sailors, for most of us had a little 
money, and those who had none could swap sassafras or furs ; 
so we got on finely. The Indians promised to be friendly, and 
Captain Newport left us a quantity of the things they like 
best, — beads, looking-glasses, hatchets, copper kettles, toys, 
and red cloth, so we could trade with them. After the vessel 

20 



WILL NEWTON OF JAMESTOWN 

sailed, however, they were not so ready to trade; and we 
found that some of them had planned to starve us out. We 
did not dare to venture far away to hunt for game. We caught 
crabs and a sturgeon now and then; and that, together with 
the weevily corn, was all we had to eat. There were not tents 
enough to hold us all, and some slept in the trees. It grew 
frightfully hot. You have n't the least idea how hot America 
can be when it tries. We worked terribly hard, building the 
palisades and trying to put up some little huts for ourselves, 
and hoeing the corn. Oh, that corn ! We wanted it to grow so 
much that we almost stood over it and pulled to see if we 
could not help it along. There was nothing to drink but river 
water. When the tide was high, that Avas salt; and when it 
was low, it was nothing but slime. We had to drink one or the 
other or die of thirst. It is no wonder that almost every one 
was sick; and before autumn fifty of our men had died. Cap- 
tain Gosnold is dead, and for a long while Caj^tain Smith was 
so sick that we were afi'aid he would not get well either. Presi- 
dent Wingfield had charge of the provisions, and you may be 
sure he did not suffer. Then, too, the first thing we knew, he 
had it all nicely arranged for himself and a few of his friends 
to escape in the pinnace and leave us to starve or not, as Ave 
could. He ought to have been hanged, but he Avas only put out 
of the Council. 

It grcAV Avorsc and Avorse. I tell you, Dick, it is not com- 
fortable to be hungry. I can remember crying for more Chi'ist- 

21 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

mas pudding in England, and I can remember saying that I 
was almost starved when dinner was late; but that was not 
being hungry. If you are really hungry, you can't look at a 
river without thinking of fried fish, and you can't look at a tree 
without thinking of squirrel soup. You see a field mouse, and 
you wish you were not any bigger than he, so a dozen grains 
of corn would give you a full meal. Your head feels queer 
and your feet kind of wobble. Your clothes are so big you 
are sure they must belong to some one else. You can't find 
any crabs. The sturgeon won't be caught. One minute you 
are ready to swallow a pine tree, and the next it makes you 
sick to think of tasting anything. That 's the way it felt to be 
hungry, Dick; and all this time the sun was growing hotter 
and the people were groaning and crying out and dying with 
the sickness. One while there were not more than five who 
could have fired a musket if the Indians had attacked us. 

If it had not been for Captain Smith, this letter would never 
have been written, that 's sure. I '11 tell you what he did. Our 
corn had been planted too late to come to anything, l)ut the 
Indians had plenty; and just as soon as he could stand, he 
started out in the boat to get them to sell us some. He knows 
almost everything, but he can't talk Indian, and he had to do it 
all by signs. He pointed to his mouth as if he were eating and 
held out his beads and needles and hatchets. Those red men 
knew that if they did not give us any food we should starve, 
and they would get the hatchets and things anyway ; so they 

22 



WILL NEWTON OF JAMESTOWN 




just grinned at him or held out a little handful of corn and 
pointed to a sword or a musket. Of course he would not give 
them arms to kill us with, but he did give them powder; for 

23 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

he and his men fired their muskets and sprang ashore. The 
Indians ran for their hves, but it was not long before they 
came back with a great company of their friends. Of cours^e I 
was not there, but the men tokl me all about it, and they said 
it Avas a sight. Tliey heard the hoAvling that the Indians seem 
to think is singing; and then they saw the queerest monster 
that any one ever dreamed of. It was really a great rag baby 
made of skins and stuffed with moss. The Lidians had painted 
it so it looked almost as bad as themselves, and they had hung 
copper chains over it. It seemed to be a sort of idol, and they 
were not the least bit afraid now it was with them. They fired 
at our men, and our men fired at them and the monster, and 
took the monster prisoner. Then it was the Indians' turn to 
beg. They had lost their Ohee, as they called it, and they were 
ready to do anything to get it back. Captain Smith pointed to 
their heaps of corn, then to his boat and then to the hatchets 
and beads and things. Then he looked pleasant and held out 
his hand to them. They understood, and in no time at all they 
filled his boat with corn, and piled venison and turkeys on top 
of it. Captain Smith gave them copper and knives and beads 
and hatchets. The red men and the white men smiled at each 
other, and the red men danced for the white men to show them 
what good friends they were. Then the Indians took their 
Glee and Avent off singing, while Captain Smith came back 
Avith the corn ; and you 'd better believe he had a Avelcome. 
^Ve had enough to eat for a good Avhile after that, for the 

24 





^■'^^itim'i^' .i „ . .,,4 






^^^^^^^S=-^'^^ ^^ <-*- -5,^ 






IM>I\\ \ ILLAGE OF SECOTAN 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

Indians brought com and beans and pumpkins ; and as it grew 
colder the wild geese and the ducks came back in great flocks. 

I suppose you think my letter is all about the Captain, but as 
I have said before, if it had not been for him there would not 
have been any letter. He was getting in food for the winter 
when the Council began to grumble that he ought to be explor- 
ing the Chickahominy River. " We are not going to stay here 
forever," they said. " We want to make our fortunes and go 
home. The Chickahominy comes from the northwest. Of course 
it rises in high land, and there is no reason why there should 
not be a river flowing down the other side into the South Sea." 

Captain Smith did not really beheve this, but he chose nine 
men to go with him and set out. He went in the barge as far as 
he could ; then he paddled on in a canoe ; then he and an Indian 
guide went still farther on foot. A large party of Indians came 
down upon him and took him prisoner. ISTow you won't think 
I 've said too much about him when I tell you what a clever 
thing he did. He had learned a few Indian words by this time, 
but he did not begin to beg for his life ; he knew Indians too 
well for that. I can fancy just how he looked — as if he did not 
care an oyster shell for any of them — and how he waved his 
hand as if he were sweeping them into the quagmire, and said, 
" Weromance." That means chief, and so they took him to their 
chief, Opechancanough. Captain Smith says that the Indians 
think whatever they do not understand is a god, and he pulled 
his compass out of his pocket and showed it to them. He told 

26 



WILL NEWTON OF JAMESTOWN 

them as well as he could how he could fiud his way through the 
woods by it; and they were as pleased as babies with sugar- 




CAPTAIN SMITH, A PRISONER, AMUSING THE INDIANS 

plums. It is not very easy to get Captain Smith to tell of his 
adventures, as I wrote in my other letter; but we found out 

27 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

that the Indians wanted to kill him, and the chief would not 
let them, for he had a plan worth two of theirs. He gave the 
Captain no end of good things to eat and set a guard of forty 
men over him. After a while the chief contrived to say that 
he wanted to get rid of those people at Jamestown. " If you 
will help me," he ^aid as well as he could by signs and Avords 
that the Captain knew, " you shall be a big warrior among us. 
You shall live with us and have some land and some wives." 
" But those people are very strong," the Cai3tain said. " They 
can do wonderful things, and there is no way that you can take 
them." The chief looked so angry that the Captain almost ex- 
pected to be killed on the instant; but one of the Indians had 
a new idea. In the fight the Captain had wounded a brave, as 
they call their fighters. " Come and make him Avell," they said. 
^Yhen the Captain looked at him, he saw that the man was not 
badly hurt, and he had an idea too, an idea that was worth a 
dozen of theirs. " I have some medicine at Jamestown that will 
cure him," he said. " Let some of your braves carry to the 
white men this bit of paper from my notebook, and then go at 
sunset to the big rock that overhangs the river above the settle- 
ment, and they will find the medicine." You 'd better believe 
he wrote more than one thing on that bit of paper. He told us 
to put the medicine beside the rock and to treat the messen- 
gers well and give them presents to bring back, Init to be sure 
and scare them half out of their wits. Did n't we, though ! We 
fired muskets and pistols and demi-culverins. Y^ou ought to 

28 



WILL NEWTON OF JAMESTOWN 



have seen those Indians run ! They carried back the medicine, 
however, and the brave got well. 




c^/t/ c/fc'sjlate 6LJ-a/7iim 'w/ien Cajp^ Smith 
^-u'us deliiiered 6? /lini fri/cner 

Still those red men couldn't make up their minds what to do 
wdth the Captain. They were afraid to let him live and they 

29 



LETTERS FROxM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

did not really dare to kill him. At last they decided to carry 
him to Powhatan, who is a bigger chief than Opechancanough. 
That must have been a sight. You see, the Captain was a pris- 
oner, but he was a great man just the same, and Powhatan 
wanted to make it clear that he was a great man, too. Fancy 
a long, narrow hut made of branches of trees woven together 
and covered with bark. Inside the hut were two rows of women 
sitting next the wall. Their heads and shoulders were daubed 
with red paint, and pieces of white down were fastened in their 
hair. Chains of white beads were around their red necks and 
fell over their red shoulders. In front of the women were two 
rows of men, all in full dress; that is, with beads and feathers 
and birds' claws and such things. At the end of the room was 
a sort of platform covered with cushions. It looked as much 
like a bedstead as anything, the Captain said, but it was a 
throne; and there was Powhatan, all splendid in feathers and 
beads and raccoon skins. He sat up very straight and looked 
as if he was a king, the Captain told us. Two of his favorite 
daughters were with him, one on each side. When the Captain 
was brought in, all those people gave a yell. They brought him 
water to wash his hands and a great bunch of feathers to dry 
them on. They gave him the best food they had. Then they 
had a long talk together. He did not know what all this meant; 
])ut when the talk stopped and two big stones were brought in 
and set down before Powhatan, and two of the strongest of the 
braves took their places beside them with clubs, then it did not 

30 



WILL NEWTON OF JAMESTOWN 

need a conjurer to tell what was coming. Even Captain Smith 
could not think of anything to do; and when he could not, you 
may be sure that no one else could. They laid him down Avith 




SMITH RESCUED BY POCAHONTAS 

his head on the stones and the men with the clubs were all 
ready to strike when something happened. He had noticed that 
when they were talking, the youngest daughter seemed to be 
begging her father to do something, but that he shook his head. 

31 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

This little girl had no idea of giving up her own way, in spite 
of Powhatan and all his braves, and suddenly she jumped dow n 
from the bedstead and threw^ her arms about the Captain's neck. 
The old chief was not one bit afraid of his braves, but he could 
not make up his mind to cross his pet daughter. He gave a sort 
of growl, then he half smiled; and at last he said, ''Let her 
have him if she ^vants him. He can make bells and beads for 
her and hatchets for me." Two days later he said to the Cap- 
tain, " I shall call 3^ou my son now\ We are friends, and you 
are free to return to the white men. You may have land too. 
Give me two of those big w^onderful guns and a grindstone, 
and you ma}^ have the w^iole Capahowsie countr3^" 

Captain Smith was not sure even then that his guides would 
not kill him on the way back to Jamestown ; l3ut they Avere very 
good to him. You can imagine that we were glad when Ave saw 
him and his twelve Indians coming down the river, for Ave had 
thought he was dead. He made a feast for the Indians, and 
then he shoAved them a big grindstone and two demi-culverins. 
" Those are AA^hat your king Avanted," he said. " Can you carry 
them to him?" One lifted, and another lifted. Then they 
grunted and shook their heads; and no Avonder, for the guns 
Aveigh four or five thousand pounds apiece. " I Avill shoAV you 
hoAv to use them," said the Captain, and he fired one of them 
at a great tree loaded Avith icicles. You never heard such a 
racket and joii never saw such scared Indians. They did not 
want any more demi-culverins, and they Avere a little afraid of 

32 




(5l/<7/rf(JiS a& ^leoecka daiiy4t,T to l/ic niifjffity ^j'aiC£-> 
ycw/w'/an Empervur of ^ llanpur/ hf^icndfi a^ \Hr-(^inia 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

the grindstone ; I suppose they thought that might go off, too. 
"If you do not want them, I will give you something instead," 
the Captain said; and they went away happy with some hatchets 
and bells and children's toys. 

Now whenever Captain Smith goes away there is sure to be 
trouble of some kind. They had sent him off to explore the 
Chickahominy when he wanted to get in food, and of course the 
food gave out. If it had notljeen for Powhatan's little daughter, 
I don't know what we should have done. The Indians told us to 
call her Pocahontas; they won't let us know her real name for 
fear we might bewitch her. That little girl was not any more 
afraid of us than I am of you, and every few days she came 
to visit us. I tell you, Dick, she was welcome, for she never 
came without a train of Indians, and every one of them was 
loaded with corn or venison or something else that was good 
to eat. 

We never laiew but each visit of Pocahontas would be the 
last, and we watched and watched for Captain N^ewj^ort and his 
vessel. At last he came, and some new settlers with him. He 
brought food as he had promised, and it did taste good ; but there 
Avas not half enough, for he stayed more than three months, and 
the sailors had to live on what he had brought for us. He let 
them trade with the Indians ; and now there were so many Avhite 
men to buy that the Indians kept putting their prices higher and 
higher. Captain N'ewport gave something to every red man that 
he saw and sent present after present to Powhatan, until the old 

34 



WILL NEWTON OF JAMESTOWN 

chief thought this new captain must be a very great man. '' Tell 
the gTeat white chief to come to visit me," Powhatan said; and 
Captain Xewport and thirty or forty men went to his village. 
They carried presents of course; and Captain ^Newport gave 
him a whole suit of red cloth, a hat, and a greyhound that he had 
brought from England. Then there was a dance and a feast — 
think of a feast three days long ! 

After the feast came the time for trading. Captain IS^ewport 
had said so many fine things to Powhatan and made him so many 
presents that the chief thought himself the greatest man in all 
Virginia and believed he could do whatever he chose with the 
white men. My father went with the company, and he told me 
all about it. He said PowKatan sat up as straight and dignified 
as you can imagine. He said to Captain Newport, " You are a 
great chief and I am a great chief. We cannot trade like these 
little men; that is not the Avay for us. You lay down what you 
wish to sell and I will lay down what I will give." Father said 
the old fellow looked so calm and stately that he really did not 
wonder that Captain ]!*^ewport was taken in. Captain Smith 
whispered, however, " Don't do it, Captain, he 's only trying 
to cheat you; " but Captain ^N^ewport did it just the same. He 
made a great display of the things that Lidians like, enough to 
buy corn to last us half the winter. Father said Powhatan's eyes 
sparkled, but in a moment he turned away and tried to look as 
if he did not care. When Captain IS^ewport had finished, Pow- 
hatan spoke to some of his men, and they brought up about four 

35 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

bushels of corn. " That is yours," said the sly old fox, " and this 
is mine," and he motioned to his men to gather up the hatchets 
and red cloth and bells and other things. Captain Smith stood 
close by father, and father heard him mutter, " Those things 
were worth twenty hogsheads of corn. We could have bought 
it cheaper in Spain." 

Captain Smith was not the man to let himself be cheated, 
however, and pretty soon he got up a trick that brought us 
out even at least. He began to show Powhatan some of his lit- 
tle things, and he found that the old chief had taken a fancy to 
some blue beads that he had not seen before. " I don't want to 
sell those," the Captain said. " They are made of a rare sub- 
stance and are very precious. You see they are of the same color 
as the sky, and only the greatest kings in the world can wear 
them." The more he said he could not sell them, the more Pow- 
hatan was bound to have them. At last he offered two or three 
hundred bushels of corn for a pound or two of those blue 
beads. Captain Smith said no, but at last he yielded. The corn 
was loaded into the boats and Powhatan put some strings of 
beads around his neck, happy as a king with a new palace. 

Our people were happy, too, for now we had enough food to 
last for a good while. We needed all we could get, for Captain 
Newport stayed and stayed. He and his men were half wild 
about gold. You know that at home everybody thinks Virginia 
is full of gold, that all you have to do is to wash some sand or 
a spadeful of dirt to fill your ])ockets. The Captain was so sure 

36 



T R V E R. E 

lation of fuch occur^ 

rences and accidents of noateas 

hath hapned in Virginia fincc the firft 
planlingoftbatCollony.* which is now 
rendent in the South part thereof,till 
the laHrcturne from 
thence. 
Written hyCajXaweSmih cneofthefatdCollony, to a 
jrt^ipipfull kkndoihh in England. 




d ^DO 7^ 
Printcdfor/*?^;? Tapfe^ and arctobccfolde at the Greys 
hound in Paulcs Church yard hyW.fV. 
1 5 o 8 

TITLE OF CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH'S "TRUE RELATION' 
Being a letter written by him in 160S 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

of finding it that he brought a jeweler and two goldsmiths and 
two refiners, and he had hardly stepped ashore before he began 
to talk about the quantity of gold that he hoped to cai-ry home 
with him. Captain Smith told him he did not believe there 
was an ounce of it in all Virginia; but Captain N'ewport only 
smiled and said, " I guess we '11 take a look around before we 
sail." 

I should think they did take a look around. They wandered 
about with shovels and picks ; and wherever they wandered they 
left holes in the ground. Father heard Captain Smith mutter to 
himself, " Pity that all this digging could not go into a cornfield 
next summer; " but it did not do any good to say a word. At 
last the sailors came upon a little stream that flowed over glit- 
tering sand. They were half wild about it, and the refiners set 
to work to see if the shiny bits were not really gold. I asked 
father if he did not mean to get some, but he said no, he rather 
thought Captain Smith knew more than those gold people, and 
he should keep on with his work. I think father is getting tired 
of the whole affair. He has worked hard cutting down cedar 
trees and getting out clapboards to send to England ; and now 
Captain Newport won't carry them because he wants every inch 
of room for this gold. And, honestly, Dick, I 've wished more 
than once that I was back in England. It's no use, though; 
we 're here, and here we must be. 

CTOod-b3% Dick. Maybe you won't hear f I'om me again. If the 
Phttuix does not come from England with provisions, we shall 

38 



WILL NEWTON OF JAMESTOWN 

have a hard time to get through the winter and spring till the 

corn is ripe. The Indians are not so much afraid of us as they 

were. Captain Newport gave Powhatan ever so many swords, 

and now they know that they can fight as well as we excei)t for 

our guns. Should you rather starve or be killed by an Indian, 

Dick? 

Your old friend, Will. 

P. S. O Dick, Dick, Dick, be sure to be on the wharf to meet 
us. N^o, I forgot that I shall carry my own letter. I don't know 
whether I am standing on my feet or my head, I am so happy. 
Captain N^ewport sails in the morning, and father and I are 
coming home with him. 



Ill 

A Letter writteu hy Henri Lamotte in Canada to 
Im little brother GuiUaume in Franee 



Quebec. Aiujust 31, 1609. 

YOU cried when I came away from old Bronage, but I am 
sure you will be happy when 3'ou see this letter, for it is 
written just to you and is going to be carried across the wide 
ocean in a great ship for nothing else but to please my little 
eio-ht-year-old brother. I know that vou cannot write me an 
answer yet; but never mind. Learn as fast as you can, and it 
will not be long before 3'Ou can send a letter to the Rock. " The 
Kock " is a great cliff, higher than the highest steeple that you 
ever saw. It would not be very easy to climb it if the rain had 
not gullied out a rough sort of path. Some day that cliff will 
have a fort on it, the Sieur de Champlain says,* and there will be 
a town, or at any rate a village. It does not look much like even 
a village now, though the Indians come from away back in the 
forest to see the wonderful houses that we have built. 

AVe did n't come here in a da}^; we Avere on the ocean six long 
weeks before we caught even a glimpse of land. This Avas New- 
foundland. And how do you think it looked ? It was not level 

40 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

and bright and sunny like Broiiage. First, it was nothing but a 
fogbank. Then the fog looked a little darker in one place than 
it did around it. Then all of a sudden it swept away, and there 
were cliffs, tall cliffs of dark red rock. We could see white lines 
running down some of the cliffs. AVhat do you think they could 
have been V They were brooks, all white and foamy because 
they ran so fast down the steep rocks. There were a few green 
patches, and those were grass. The biggest waves you can im- 
agine were breaking upon the base of the cliffs. It looked dark 
and gloomy and I was glad we were not to stop there. We sailed 
on past big islands and little islands. One looked just like a 
whale. Another Avas higher than a church steeple and more than 
twice as long as it Avas high. We heard this island before Ave 
saAv it. What do you think of that ? We heard shriekin.g and 
squalling and squaAvking and screaming and screeching. I 
crossed myself, for they say there are demons on some of these 
islands. We could not see anything, but after the fog blcAv 
aAvay, there Avas this immense rock. Two great passage Ava3^s 
Avere pierced through at the base large enough for a boat to go 
through. 

But you Avant to know about the noises, I am sure. Those 
did not stop, but Ave found out Avhat made them. It Avas 
nothing but birds, and there Avas not a demon to be seen. The 
gulls live on one end of the rock and the cormorants on the 
other. They quarrel CA^ery little Avhile, and then they fight and 
scream and squaAvk and make all the rest of the noises. They 

41 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

kept up the din as long as we could see them or hear them. 
Our own fishermen come here to fish, so maybe you ate for your 
breakfast some salt fish from this very place. 

The pierced rock, or Perce Rock, was not where we were to 
stop. We passed that and sailed on and on into a mighty river. 
After a while we landed at a point that the Indians call Tadou- 
sac. Then we were surprised, for two ships were in the harbor. 
Of course you can guess who was on board one of them, for 
you saw it start from Honflenr eight days before I sailed. It was 
Captain Pontgrave. He had come to buy furs of the Indians ; 
but when he reached Tadousac, he found another ship there 
with Basques on board, and they were buying furs as fast as 
ever they could. Captain Pontgrave showed them the letter of 
the king. It said that for one year no one but the Captain should 
have the right to buy furs. The Basques said, " We don't care 
what the king says ; we are going to buy as many as we choose." 
Then they fired at Captain Pontgrave. They had more men and 
more guns than he, and he had to yield. The Basques took away 
all his guns and powder and said as saucily as you please, "When 
we are through buying furs, you may have these little things 
again." Pretty soon, however, they remembered that when they 
went back to France they would be in trouble ; for when the 
king and his oflficers knew that they had broken the law they 
would be put in prison. They began to feel frightened, and 
when Governor Champlain appeared they promised not to buy 
any more furs. They said they would catch whales instead; so 

42 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

they all went to work catching whales, and Captain Pontgrave 
bought furs. 

I know you are wondering of whom he bought them. They 
were Lidians, real Indians, and they were living in wigwams 
made of poles fastened together at the top and covered with 







A JJi ^4^ ^K 1^, *- -^ 



A. ^ it ^ 




K%- 



i-rrr l\»vi 



B.^por^ltf WtfU^AC 



TADOUSAC 



bark. They hunt in the winter and get beautiful furs. They are 
glad to sell them for such things as knives, hatchets, blankets, 
and beads. But the furs that they get would not fill the great 
ship ; so they buy more from tribes that live far to the northward 
and bring them down a deep, dark river called the Saguenay. 
They paddle down in little birch-bark canoes. Did you ever see 

43 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

a waterfly skimming over the top of the water ? He looks as if it 
was easier to move than to keep still. That is the way the canoes 
go when they ^re not loaded. It must be hai'd work to paddle 
even a light canoe when it is full of furs; but the Indians know 
how to do it so Avell that it looks easy. 

We all wanted to go on to the place where we were to begin 
our settlement, but the Governor needed a sailboat to use after 
the ship had gone back, so he set the carpenters at work; and 
Avhile they were building it, we went up the cold, dark Saguenay 
one hundred and fifty miles. " Saguenay " means " a river with 
steep banks," and you would think these were steep, I know, for 
they are great black and gray cliffs, higher than any I ever saw 
before. Even Avhen they are not so high or so steep, they look 
dried and dead and as if nothing could possibly grow on them. 
AYe saw hardly a bird the whole way. I believe that even the 
birds are afraid of the river. Away up at the top of one of the 
great cliffs we did see an eagle, but it did not look any bigger 
than the head of a pin. We should never have known that it was 
an eagle if we had not watched it sweep down near the river. 
W^e tried to sound the Avater, but it Avas so deep that Ave could 
not find any bottom. It is not really black, but rather a dark 
liroAvn. The bubbles at the stern of the boat are not Avhite, as 
they are off Brouage, but pale gold color. It Avas all strange and 
unnatural. It was the most fearful place I ever saAv, and I Avas 
glad Avhen we were out of the Saguenay. The dark Avater made 
a broad black mark in the blue Saint LaAvrence; but beyond that 

44 






I'liiiiilli 
iii|ii,„i 




LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

the river was bright and sunny. The big white wiiales were roll- 
ing and tumbling about, and their backs flashed in the sunshine. 
They have plenty of room to roll, and if there were thousands 
and thousands more of them, they would not be croAvded, the 
river is so wide. You know it is ten miles from Brouage to 
Rochefort, and that distance is just half way across the Saint 
Lawrence at Tadousac. Do you wonder that it seemed more 
like being on the ocean than in a river ? 

It was a river, however, and w hen the last day of June came, 
we left Tadousac and sailed on up stream toward the place where 
out* settlement was to be. We went past high black moimtains 
that looked as if they were not at all pleased at our coming into 
their country. There were miles and miles of forests, and once 
in a while a bright little meadow all fresh and green in the sun- 
shine. There was a beautiful waterfall too. At first it looked 
like a white ribbon floating doA\ai over the cliff; but when we 
came nearer, we saw that it was really a cataract. The sun was 
shining on the foam at the foot of the fall, and it looked as if 
there was a whole gulf full of rainbow^s. Do you remember how 
you tried when you were a very little boy to find the end of 
the bow and the pot of gold that nurse told you was under it ? 
Maybe if you had come here you would have found it. It looked 
as if there might be gold there or anything else that was bright 
and shining. 

The Sieur de Champlain has been here once before, and he is 
glad to come again. He gazes at every little point as if it was 

46 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

an old friend. " There 's the Isle aux Coudres ! " he cried. (You 
would like that, little brother, for it takes its name of island 
of hazel nuts because so many hazel bushes groAv on it.) Some 
time later he exclaimed, " My beautiful Isle d'Orleans ! " That 
is a long green island with groves and meadows and hills. When 
Jacques Cartier came here, many years before either you or I 
was born, he found larger grapevines than he had ever seen 
even in France, and so he called it the Isle de Bacchus. Can 
you find out why ? NTot much later it was named Isle d'Orleans 
in honor of the Duke of Orleans. 

Xo one took a very long look at this island, for about three 
miles up the river Avas something that was much moi-e in- 
teresting. We had come a long way to see it. We expected 
to see it all winter and perhaps much longer, but we stared 
as if we should never have another chance. It was big, ever 
so much bigger than the cathedral you saAv in Paris. It was 
gray, and I thought it looked almost as gloomy as the Sague- 
nay; but suddenly the sun broke through a cloud and shone 
upon it, and then it was warm and bright and glowing. Can 
you guess what it was ? It was " the Rock." You like to hear 
stories of giants, my Gruillaume, and if you had seen this, I am 
sure you Avould have fancied that the biggest giant in all the 
world had pushed his great shoulder out into the river. He 
is not the kind of giant that eats little boys, or big ones either, 
even in books, but he has given us some pretty hard times 
since we came. 

47 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

^ow, Guillaume, if you had been the Governor, what should 
you have done first ? I think even a ]3oy who is only eight could 
give a good answer to that. You would say, '' I must build a 
house to keep nie from the rain and the cold." That is exactly 
what the Governor meant to do. There was one thing that must 
be decided first, however, and that was where the house should 
be. Should you make a road wdiere the rains had washed out a 
gully and then put your house on top of the cliff ? ^o, for that 
would be a long and hard way to carry things up from the ship, 
and we had no horses or oxen. Then, too, up on the cliff would 
be a charming place for a picnic in summer, but when winter 
came it would be terribly cold. The winds would howl about it 
fearfully, and maybe the}^ would be strong enough to tear down 
any house that we could build and send the planks and the beams 
whirling down into the great river. The Governor was too Avise 
to build in any such place. He said, " Here is a fine strip of 
land close to the river. The cliff is behind it, and that will keep 
off some of the coldest winds. See how rich the ground looks 
and how finely the walnut trees are growing! Here is the place 
for oui- houses. By and by there shall be cannon on the top 
of the cliff and cannon at the base, and maybe just across the 
river." Do you see wdiy he wanted the cannon, little brother? 
It was so that, if any one tried to pass the city who had no right 
to go up the river, the canuon at the top of the cliff could 
go, "Pff! Boom!" The cannon at the base could go, "Pff! 
Boom!" and the cannon across the river could o-q, "Pff! 

48 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 




JACQUES CARTIER 



Boom I " Do you think there "vvould be anything left of the ves- 
sel after that? I do not, and even if there ^vas, it would turn 
about and go down stream as fast as ever it could to get away 

49 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

from those cannon. Then there is something more. Why should 
the king of France not be wilhng to let ships sail past the Rock 
as freely as they come into the harbor of Brouage ? That is a 
question which I don't beheve you can answer. I '11 tell you. 
The Indians are glad to sell beaver skins and other furs that 
they do not want for knives and hatchets and blankets that they 
do want. One can buy hatchets for a little money in France and 
sell the furs for a great deal of money. But if every one who 
would like to get rich should come and buy furs, the people 
whom our king wishes to buy them would not be able to get 
many. Then, too, it is hard for the Indians to come a long way 
through the forests and carry heavy loads of furs, but it is easy 
for them to pile the furs into a canoe and paddle down any little 
stream that flows into the Saint Lawrence, and so come to Quebec. 
That is why we do not want any strange vessels to be able to go 
past the Rock. The Saint Lawrence is so large that there must 
be a great many rivers flowing into it, or maybe there is a 
great lake. Even if we can follow up the river and find that there 
is no great lake, but that it rises somewhere in the mountains, 
we may discover that from another little spring a brook flows 
in the opposite direction which by and by becomes a river and 
empties into the water that is off the coast of China. Then France 
can trade with China, and no other nation will be able to do that 
because we shall have the shortest way. The Sieur de Champlain 
would Hke to find that way of course; but there are two other 
things that he wants to do quite as much. He does not care a 

50 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

very great deal to be rich, but he does care to found a village 
that will some time become a city; and he cares to teach the 
Indians about God. I heard him sa}^ once that it was greater 
to save one soul than to found an empire; and he ho23es to be 
friends with the Indians about here, not only so he can trade 
with them, but so he can teach them to be good Christians. 

I am sure that you know what Ave did next as well as I do. 
We went ashore and began to build our houses on the strip of 
land between the cliff and the river. I did one thing, however, 
that I haven't told you. When I first stepped on the land, I 
thought of my own little brother away off in France. I thought 
of the day when my father said, " In a little while Guillaume 
will have only you, and 3^ou must try to be father and mother 
to him." I thought of that, and then I said a little prayer in my 
heart that I might take good care of you and that 3^ou might 
be a good boy. 

Xow about building. You would have liked to see the work 
go on, I know, for every one was as busy as he could be. The 
Governor looked about and chose what he thought was the best 
place for the houses. Then we all set to work to cut dowii the 
trees and clear the ground. The cellars were marked out and 
some of the men began to dig. Others went to the base of the 
cliff for stone. They did not have to break it off, for quantities 
of it had fallen, and it was already broken into pieces of all 
shapes and sizes. They brought this and laid it down beside the 
cellars. We wanted beams and planks, of course. I know how 

51 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

to use an axe and a saw well, so I helped in that part of the 
work. After we had cut down a tree, we hewed the trunk with 
the axes until it began to look as if it might be square if we 
worked long enough. Then we sawed it into pieces of the length 
that was needed for beams. There was so much sawing to do 
that I did not know but my shoulder would come off, for every 
plank used in building our houses had to be sawed out of one of 
those trees that were alive and growing when we came. We had 
whipsaws, and I pulled at one end while another man (don't 
let nurse laugh at me, Guillaume, and say I 'm not a man yet) 
worked at the other. After a while there was a great pile of 
planks, though the carpenters were making it smaller as fast as 
they could. I wish you could see the houses they built. There 
are three besides a storehouse. In one house are the guns and 
powder and cannon balls. That has a sun-dial on the roof. Li 
the second house is the blacksmith's forge, and in the third is the 
Governor's room. That is on the ground floor. Some of the men 
sleep in that house and some in each of the other houses. A 
gallery runs around the second floor. There is a palisade around 
the buildings and a moat fifteen feet wide and six feet deep. It 
has a drawbridge, and if you should come up to the gate some 
morning and say, " If you please, I want to come in," the man 
on guard would ask, " Are you a friend or an enemy ?" " I am 
a friend," you Avould reply. Then he Avould pull the ropes, down 
would go the drawl)ridge, and you would walk across the moat 
as easily as if you Avere crossing a floor. But now supposing you 

52 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

were an enemy ; the bridge would stay up, and unless you could 
jump more than six feet, you could not come to the door. You 
would not have a pleasant time waiting, either, for we have three 




THE BUILDINGS AT QUEBEC 

cannon and one at least would be aimed right at you. Then I 
think you would say, "■ Please excuse me. I don't want to come 
in. I 'd much rather run away." 

There 's one thing more which I have n't told you, and it is 

53 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

that Ave have a dove-cote. It is so tall and slender that it looks 
like a little tower. There 's another pleasant thing, and that is 
the Governor's garden. He made one just beyond the moat. He 
loves flowers, and then, too, he wanted to try different kinds of 
seeds to find out what will grow here. We planted much more 
than just a garden, for we sowed wheat and rye and set out some 
grapevines that we brought with us. The Indians thought the 
buildings were wonderful, and they came from a long w ay off 
to see what amazing houses had been put up at " Kebec." That 
is what they call the place because the river narrows here, and 
" kebec " means a narrowing. Some of the Indians built their 
wigwams just outside of our palisade and went to work. What 
do you suppose red men do when they work ? In this case, it 
was catching eels. They smoked them and dried them. Then, 
when they thought they had enough to live on for a month or 
two, they went off into the forest to hunt beaver and other 
animals whose furs they could sell. They asked Governor 
Champlain if he would take care of their eels for them while 
they were on the hunt. He said yes, and they went away off 
and were gone a good many weeks. Captain Pontgrave went 
away too, for he had a good load of skins, and he sailed back 
to sell them for the Company. 

N'ow, little brother, how should you have liked to be in our 
wooden castle, far a^vay from home and the people that you love, 
to know that the cold, cold winter was coming down upon you, 
that the ship had gone back to France, and you must stay where 

54 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

yqu were till it came again? We had enough to eat, though 
there was none too much; We cut great piles of wood and 
brought it in, and we made the houses as tight and warm as we 
could. Then there was nothing for us to do but wait for the 
spring. One thing you would have liked to see, and that Avas the 
forests before the snow came. The trees were all aglow with 
bright colors, much brighter and more beautiful than they ever 
are in France. Some were deep, dark red; some were blazing 
scarlet ; some were almost purple ; and some of the maples and 
birches were of such a golden yellow that they looked as if they 
were great masses of sunshine. 

It would not have seemed half so gloomy if we could have 
kept the l)right leaves all winter; but in a little while they all 
fell off. Then the snow began to come. Everything was white 
with it except the river, and that was black and cold. Long be- 
.fore it froze, it crept along as if it was shivering. We shivered, 
you may be sure, in spite of the great fires that we ke]3t up. We 
burned logs so big that sometimes even two strong men could 
not bring them in w ithout help. The wind blew in through every 
tiny crack, even through the thick boards, we fancied. What 
should you have done, my Guillaume, all those long days V We 
looked our guns over and rubbed them again and again. We 
melted lead and made bullets. The blacksmith examined every 
spade and hoe and shovel and put in order each one that was the 
least bit broken. We set traps for foxes. AVe made our meals 
last as long as we could. We slept, we played games, we talked 

55 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

about home, aiul ^\e told stories. The Sieiir de Champlam did 
everything for us that a man could do. He was always cheery 
and good-natured. He kept the best of provisions put away, 
and when we had a terrible storm and were all feeling as if we 
should never see our own country again, he would give us some- 
thing a little better than our e very-day fare; and then we felt 
just as you do when you are 023ening your Christmas box. He 
told better stories than anyone else. One day when it was fear- 
fully cold, he told us about trying to found a colony on Saint 
Croix Island five years ago. " This is nothing," he said, though 
he was shivering with cold, " just nothing at all compared with 
Saint Croix Island. Here we have big fires with plenty of wood. 
We have good wine to drink and good water. We don't have 
to drink our cider in chunks as we did there because we couldn't 
have fire enough to melt it. Just fancy how it would seem 
if over across the river there Avas a great forest, and you were 
perishing with cold for the lack of a little wood ! The river at 
Saint Croix was full of great cakes of ice. They were so heavy 
and came down so fast that no boat could have lived in it for a 
moment any more than it could live in the Saint Lawrence to- 
day." He looked toward the river, then he started, scraped off 
the frost from the window to see more clearly and cried, " See ! 
They are trying to cross ! " We all rushed to the Avindows. The 
river was not frozen over then, but it was full from shore to 
shore of masses of ice. They whirled and pitched and ground 
together and broke into bits and slid over one another. On the 

56 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

farther shore we could see some Indians getting into their 
canoes. " They are mad," some one cried, " no boat conld live 
there ! " But the poor people were in the canoes and were pad- 
dling for their lives. The squaws and the children were hud- 
dled together in the bottom of the boats. Some of the men wei-e 
ti-ying to push away the cakes of ice with poles and others were 
paddling Avhenever there w^as a bit of room to paddle. My lit- 
tle Guillaume, you think there is nothing that " big brother " 
cannot do; but even if you had been in one of those boats I 
could not have done any more than I did then — just to watch 
for the moment when they would be caught between heavy cakes 
of ice and crushed. The heavy cakes came. The men pushed 
with all their might, but they might as well have pushed against 
the Rock itself. We were gazing so eagerly that we almost 
fancied we could hear the sound when the canoes were crushed; 
for in a moment more they were ground into bits and were 
gone. But where do you think the people were, Guillaume ? 
Not one went down w^ith the canoes; they all jumped upon a 
monstrous cake of ice and were saved from that death. What 
should you have done then V Some of the men still had their 
paddles, but they were of no use. Some had their poles, l)ut 
only a giant would have been strong enough to thrust away the 
masses of ice that were coming down upon them. We had all 
hurried to the shore, and there we could hear them wail and 
lament. A little farther up the river we saw a thick sheet of ice 
sweeping down upon them. " That Avill carry them under," 

57 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

some one said; but it did not. I think the good God himself 
must have helped them, heathen as they were, for when it was 
almost upon them another cake nearly as large as that struck 
it and pushed it a little toward the farther shore. It struck the 
cake on which the Lidians sat crouched together moaning; but 
it struck it on the farther side and gave it such a l)low that it 
whirled around, and the other masses following drove it toward 
our shore. Then we helped the poor people up the bank and 
brought them to the fort and gave them some bread and beans. 
You never saw any one so thin in your life. They were so weak 
that they could ha]"dly stand. I don't see how the squaws ever 
carried their little children and made such leaps from the canoes 
to the cake of ice. It must have been because they were starv- 
ing and their only hope was that, if they could only get to us, 
we would give them food. 

These were not the only red men who came to us for help. Do 
you remember that I told you, ever so many pages back in this 
long, long letter, about some Indians who asked the Governor 
to take care of their dried eels, and then went away into the 
forest to hunt? Late in the winter they came back and took 
their eels again. Their work was over, and now they wanted 
to eat and sleep till the rest of the cold weather had gone. They 
built some wigwams as close to the fort as we would let them, 
and stayed there all the rest of the winter. They were not very 
quiet neigh])ors, and the reason was that they believed their 
dreams would come true. These Indians are Algonquins, and 

58 





RECEIVING THE STARVING INDIANS 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

tliey are tei-i'ibly afraid of the L'oquois, some other Indians who 
live to the south of ns. Some one of them often dreamed that 
the Iroquois were coming. Then they ran to the fort and woke 
us up and begged to come in where they would be safe. The 
Cxovernor was good to them ; and although he knew it was all 
foolishness, he always let the women and children come in and 
stay till morning. 

But I have n't told you the hardest, saddest j^art of the win- 
ter's story. That was the sickness which came down upon us. 
There were twenty-eight of us in the fall and only eight when 
the winter was over. Thank the good God, my Guillaume, for 
saving me, and pray Him that I may one day come back to you 
to live in our own beautiful France. I cannot tell you how much 
I thought of home during those dark, cold days of the winter. 
When I half shut my eyes I did not see the terrible snow, but 
the sunny marshes of Brouage and the square pools with the nar- 
row dikes between. I saAvthe blue salt water flowing into them. 
Then I saw the salt beginning to collect on the surface of the 
water. It was all white and creamy. I even fancied that I could 
smell the sweet violet fragrance that comes from it. Sometimes 
I thought of the place as it looks when the pools are dry and 
the salt is piled up in gleaming cones along the dikes. I know 
so well what a hurrying and rushing there is to get it safely 
stowed away into the ships before a rain comes, that I almost 
saw the men in their white frocks shoveling it into the white 
canvas bags and throwing them over the backs of the horses. I 

60 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

fancied I saw the boys leading the horses and running as fast 
as ever they could to the quays ; then returning on horseback 
at full gallop to get another load. I used to sit with my eyes 
half shut and fancy that I could see all this and that I had 
hold of your hand as I used to do when we walked on the dikes 
together. Once I thought you were slipping, and I called aloud, 
" Hold fast, Guillaume ! " Then I woke, and when I looked out, 
there was no sunny Brouage, but leagues and leagues of cold 
white snow. The masses of ice in the river were sfrindiuir to- 
gether and creaking and hissing and growling, and the cold 
gray sky was over us all. 

Do you wonder, Guillaume, that, sad and half sick as we were, 
we were joyful when the snow melted and we saw the first l)it 
of brown earth V It was only a wee l)it, not half so large as your 
little garden, but it meant that the horrible cold had almost 
gone. Monster icicles, two or three times as long as a man, rat- 
tled down from the Rock. The sky was not so gray and gloomy. 
The days were growing longer. The bit of brown earth became 
larger, the sunshine w^as warmer. We began to talk of what 
would be i^lanted in our garden. Then the Governor told us of 
his garden at Port Royal, where they moved w^hen the}^ had to 
leave Saint Croix. " There was a little summer-house," he said, 
" and when I sat in it, I could see the flowers in the garden and 
the wide ditches of water with trout swimming merrily about 
in them. Around all this were the green meadows with here and 
there a beautiful tree. It seemed as if the little birds round about 

61 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

took pleasure in it, for they gathered there in large numbers, 
warbhng and chirping so pleasantly that I think I never heard 
the like." He told us, too, about the merry times they had at 




MERRY TIMES AT PORT ROYAL 



table. Each one provided the food for one day. He might shoot 
game, or catch fish or, if he was lazy, he might buy food of the 
Indians; but he must see to it that in some way there should 
be a good dinner. These men called themselves members of the 
Order of Mirth, and the one in charge for the day was Grand 
]VIaster. When dinner came, he put on the glittering collar of 
the Order, threw a naj)kin over his shoulder, took the staff of 

62 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

his office in his hand, and led the way to the table. The others 
followed him, each one carrying some dish. They had a merry 
time eating their dinner, you may be sure. At night, the Grand 
Master put the collar around the neck of the man whose turn 
came next. Then each took a cup of wine and drank one an- 
other's health. " That's the way we did at Port Royal, but it is 
all gone now," the Governor said. Then he seemed to forget 
that he was not alone, and he muttered, "I do not believe that 
Poutrincourt will give it up. He will go back some day, and Port 
Koyal may yet be a town." He aroused himself and said, "•' But 
this is Quebec, the great fortress, the Queen of the Saint Law- 
rence. What shall we do for Quebec?" He planned where 
the seeds should be j)lanted, and we all set to work. 

The winter was over, the summer had come, the ice had long 
ago gone from the river, ^ow, Guillaume, which way should 
you have looked and what should you have hoped to see ? I 
know what you will say. It is this : " I should have looked and 
looked down the river to see if a ship from France was not on 
its way." That is just what we did. Every morning some one 
would say, ''Maybe there will be news of the ship to-day;" and 
at night we were sure to hear from some corner of the house, 
" She did u't come to-day, boys, but she is one day nearer than 
she was yesterday." At last, one bright June morning when 
the flowers were blooming and the birds were singing, we caught 
sight of a little white sail not far from the Isle d'Orleans. At 
first it did not look any bigger than one of the little paper boats 

63 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

that you are so fond of sailing, but it brought us a joyful mes- 
sage. Think Iioay happy we were when we heard that Captain 
Pontgrave was at Tadousac ! We almost felt as if we were on 
our way home, for now we should know what had been going on 
in France and we should hear from our friends. You can guess 
what I said to myself, little bi'other. It was, " Xow I shall hear 
from Cxuillaume. From Guillaume, from Guillaume," I kept 
saying over and over in my mind as I went down to the boat 
with the Governor. 

In a little more than two da3's we were at Tadousac. There 
was the ship, there was the Captain with his men ; and, best of 
all, there was a long, long letter from nurse that told me all 
about you, that you were Avell and good, and that you did not 
forget the big brother far away over the sea, I am just twice as 
old as you, my little Guillaume. Do you think I am very aged? 
Sometimes I feel as if I were. The Governor treats me as if I 
were twenty-five. He is very kind and never seems to forget 
that our mothers were distant kin. He will put me ahead, I 
am sure, and do all he can. He said he was glad that our bit 
of money was invested in the Company, and he hoped it wotdd 
not be many years before I should be able to return to you. 
He has promised that I shall go with him on his hrst exploring 
trip. You won't understand all of this, I am afraid; but never 
mind, nurse will know what it means, and she will explain it 
to you. 

But I was telling you abo^it our going to Tadousac to meet 

64 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

Captain Pontgrave. Governor Champlain had a plan to go 
mnch farther than that and in a different direction. He asked 
the Captain to come to Quebec and stay while he was gone; 
then he set off on his journey, or rathei-, we set off, for I went 
with him. Do you remember that I told you there were three 
things which he wanted to do : to found a settlement, to teach 
the Indians to become Christians, and to explore the coun- 
try far to the west in the hope that he might perhaps discover 
the passage which every one believes there is somewhere 
leading to the ocean that washes the shores of China ? The 
settlement was well begun; and he hoped before very long 
to bring over some good priests who would teach the Indians. 
He wanted now to find out what lay to the west of us. He did 
not know the way, and how was he to find it? I am sure that 
when nurse reads you this you will say, "Ask the Indians 
to show him." That is just what he did do, and they were 
ready enough to say yes ; but they asked him if he would do 
them a favor in return. This is what the favor was : that he 
would take what they called his firestick with him and help 
them in a battle with the Iroquois. He promised to do this. 
The Indians were delighted, for they knew that the Governor 
would do just Avhat he agreed. They told the other tribes that 
are friends of theirs, and some of them came as fast as they 
could so as to go with them and help fight their enemies. 

The Governor and some of the Indians, together with two 
more of us white men, set out to sail up the river; but before 

65 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

we had gone far, we came upon two or three hundred other 
Indians who had come a long way to meet us, for they had 
heard of the wonderful firestick and they wanted to join the 
party. Now do you suppose we all set off as fast as we could 
go? No, indeed; that is not the Lidian way. These strangers 
had never seen a white man before, and they gazed at the 
Governor and the other white man and me just as you gaze at 
a puppet show. They looked at our white skins and clothes 
and armor, and especially at the amazing firesticks. They 
asked questions about everything, and they felt of everything 
except the firesticks ; they were a little afraid of those. Then 
we all settled down to a sort of picnic. We smoked together, 
we made speeches to each other, and we feasted. Even after 
all that they were not quite ready to go on. " We have heard 
of the marvellous houses that you have made at Kebec," they 
said, "and before we go on the warpath, we want to go there 
to look at them." The Governor was eager to go on and see 
the great, strange country, but he did not get out of patience. 
He turned back and we all went together to Quebec. When 
the men there saw us coming, they thought the Governor must 
have given up his voyage, but he soon told them why he had 
returned. "The Indians are like little children," he said. "If 
we please them in small things, they will be willing to please 
us in great things. We want them to become our friends and 
good subjects of our king. Let them look as long as they like." 
It seemed as if they never would be through looking. They 

66 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 



stared at the houses and wanted to feel of everythmg in them. 
They stood and watched the sun-dial an hour at a time to see 
the shadow creep around, and they would have gazed at the 



j;l.2-^t<rm I 



£^ 



2^3 • 




INDIAN COSTUMES: I.IROQUOIS; 2. ALGONQUIN 

blacksmith from morning till night if he had worked at his 
forge so long. They asked to see what the Governor's musket 
would do. He fired it, and they were badly frightened; and 
when he had a cannon fired, some of those who were near it 
were so terrified that they fell down upon the ground. When 
night came, they danced the war-dance. They howled and 

67 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

screamed and pomided the earth. Then they lay down to sleep, 
and in the morning they told the Governor that they were 
ready to go on the warpath. 

-It was a long journe}' . Sometimes we paddled uj) the river 
in canoes, and sometimes we came to rapids so swift that there 
was nothing to do but to drag the canoes up on shore and carry 
them till there was calm water again. We went by forests and 
meadows and beautiful green islands. We saw birds that I 
never saw before. Sometimes at night we heard the barking 
of wolves and the growling of bears. We w^ere not afraid, for 
we always kept up a blazing fire, and wild animals do not like 
to go near a fire. There was a good deal to do at night before 
we could lie down to sleep. First the canoes were drawn up 
on shore and brought close together. Then the Indians cut 
down trees and piled them up in a half circle. The open side 
was towards the river and took in the canoes. Some of the 
Indians went ahead through the forest for quite a little way, 
looking and listening for the Iroquois. When they came back 
and said they had seen no traces of the enemy, everybody lay 
down and went to sleep. 

One thing that they did would have seemed more funny to 
you than any 2)uppet show. In every tribe there is one man, a 
medicine-man as they call him, and they believe that he can 
tell them what is going to happen. Of course they wanted to 
know now whether they would beat the Iroquois, and they 
asked the medicine-man to find out. He made a little wigwam 

68 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

of jjoles and covered it with deerskins. Then he crept inside 
and began to mumble and gTiimble and growl. The Indians 
sat gazing at the wigwam as if it were the most wonderful 
thing in the world. One of them said to the Governor, " Watch, 
and you w^ill see that the Manito will shake the wigwam." The 
Governor watched and so did I. The wigwam shook hard 
enough ; but just then one of the deerskins slipped aside and 
we could see plainly that it was no Manito but the big medi- 
cine-man who was shaking the poles. The Indians watched 
gravely, and soon one said, " ]Now you will see the fire and 
smoke coming out of the top of the wigwam." We couldn't 
see any, however; and when they said they could hear the 
Manito talking, all we could hear Avas a funny little squeaking 
or whining that the medicine-man himself made. When he 
came out of the wigwam, the Indians all begged to knoAv if 
they were to win. He said they were, and then they were 
delighted. They did one thing to make ready for the battle 
which was like a game with toy soldiers. The chief found 
some level ground and the other Indians all gathered around 
it. He had a bundle of little sticks in his hand, and I wondered 
what he was going to do with them. He stuck them into the 
ground, and whenever he put one in he called the name of a 
man. Can you guess what it all meant ? He was showing the 
men just where they were to stand in battle. They watched 
him very closely, and when he was done, they all took their 
places in just the order that he had shown them. They did not 

69 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

march or drill, but from this little game of playing soldiers 
they learned just what they were to do. 

There was only one thing now that troubled them. It was 
that the Governor had not dreamed anything that they could 
fancy to mean victory. At last he dreamed that he saw the 
L'oquois di'owning. This was just what the Indians wanted, 
and now they felt perfectly sure that they would win the 
fight. 

One evening we caught sight of the canoes of the Iroquois. 
They were nearer the shore than we, so they landed and began 
to build a bai-ricade of logs. We stayed in the canoes; but we 
could not sleep, for the two parties of Indians were shouting 
to each other and howling all night long. First, an Iroquois 
would tell in what great battles he had fought and how many 
scalps he had taken. Then one of our Lidians would tell a 
bigger story. The Iroquois would hoot and yell and call him 
a liar. " We will tell you a true story," they would say, and 
then some one of them would try to tell a bigger tale than 
the Algonquin had done. 

When morning came, we all made ready for the fight. The 
Governor jmt on his armor; and that was not an easy thing to 
do, for he was lying in the bottom of a canoe with a blanket 
over him. You see, our Indians wanted to surprise the Iro- 
quois and frighten them. I was lying in another canoe close 
to the Governor's. Our Algonquins landed, and the Iroquois 
marched out of their barricade. Three of them were in front. 

70 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

Each wore three feathers on his head, so I knew that those 
men were the chiefs. Some of them had shields made of wood 
covered with skin, and some wore a sort of armor made of 
twigs woven together with something hke coarse thread. They 
kncAv that arrows would not go through these, and so the}^ 
felt perfectly safe. They did not know what a surprise was 
waiting for them. Suddenly the Governor stepped ont in front 
of onr Indians. The Iroquois had never before seen such a 
sight. They stood still and stared. Then he fired. Tavo of the 
chiefs fell dead and another one of their braves was wounded. 
Our Indians were so delighted that they yelled till you would 
have thought the skies were going to fall. The Iroquois were 
terrified, but they w^ere brave warriors, and in a moment they 
began to shoot arrows. The Algonquins shot, and for a few 
moments there was a real cloud of flying arrows. While the 
Governor was loading his gun, I fired. I was hidden behind 
the trees. Then the Iroquois were so terrified that they ran as 
if evil spirits were after them. They threw away their bows 
and arrows and shields and as much of their armor as they 
could tear off. They left their canoes in the river and their 
food in the barricade that they had built. They did not care 
what became of their possessions if they could only save their 
lives. 

AVe all came away at once; I mean as soon as the victors 
had had a feast and danced and sung, or rather shouted and 
yelled. On the journey they would talk of nothing but the 

72 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

wonderful victory. " The Iroquois will not dare to attack us 
again very soon," they boasted. '' How they ran ! They leaped 
like a deer when it hears a strange sound. They were cowards, 
those mighty Iroquois. They were afraid of the little firestick. 
The firestick is our friend. We do not fear it, and we do not 
fear the Iroquois, cowards that they are ! " 

Before these boasters reached Quebec, however, they, too, 
were frightened, and they ran away from a much less danger- 
ous thing than the " little firestick." It was a dark night and 
the rain was coming down in torrents. Suddenly they heard a 
yell, and they all sprang up and seized their bows and arrows. 
" The Iroquois are coming ! " some one shouted. " They will 
soon be upon us ! Run, run ! "' In spite of all that the Governor 
could do, they caught up what they could of their provisions 
and leaped into their canoes, dragging their prisoners with 
them. The rain was tumbling down in bucketfuls, but they 
paddled on till they came to some islands where they thought 
the terrible Iroquois could not find them. Then they hid in 
the reeds, standing in water up to their waists, and fearing at 
every little sound that their enemies were coming. And what 
do you think had frightened them so dreadfully? It was 
nothing but a harmless little dream. One of the braves had 
dreamed that the Iroquois would soon attack them, and they 
were all so afraid that the dream would come true that they 
had run for their lives. Which do j^ou think were the cowards, 
Guillaume, the men who were afraid of the firestick or those 

73 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

who were so badly frightened by a dream ? Our Indians were 
very grateful to the Governor and they made him a present, 
something that they thought was exceedingly valuable. ''You 
must carry this to your king," they said, " and then he will 
see what brave friends you have across the ocean." What do 
you think the present was ? It Avas the head of one of the 
Iroquois who had been killed! 

When the Indians journey, the women carry all the heavy 
burdens; and if they plant corn, it is the women who do all 
the hard work. The reason for this is that they think a man's 
business is to hunt and fight. They have many ideas that seem 
very strange to us. I asked one of them where the Indians 
came from in the first place, and he said, "Once upon a time, 
a long while ago, the Great Spirit made many arrow heads. 
He planted them in the ground. By and by they grew up, 
and then they became men and women." They think that one 
should never forget a kindness or forgive an injury. If the 
man who has been wronged cannot do some harm to the one 
who wronged him, he tries to injure one of his tribe. When 
they take a prisoner in war, they torture him and make him 
suffer terribly before he is put to death. They think that the 
sun drops down into a little hole in the ground every night to 
hide, and that it slips around into another hole on the other 
side of the earth, ready to pop its head out in the morning. 
There is a great fish in one of the lakes which is so different 
from other fishes that they believe it must have some strange 

74 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

power. They brought the Governor the dried head of one of 
these fish and said, " Your head ache some day ? Bleed it with 
one of these teeth, and it will soon be well again." When one 
of their braves dies, they put his furs and knives and hatchet 
and blanket and kettle into his grave, together with some corn 
and peas and dried fish or moose meat. "Why do you do 
that?" we asked an Indian. He replied, " The brave will need 
to use them in the other world." " But when you open the 
grave they are still there," we said. He had an answer ready. 
"The bodies of the things are there," he declared, "but the 
souls of them are gone to the world of spirits, and the spirit 
of the brave is using them." Some of the tribes that live near 
Perce Kock believe that a giant as dreadful as any in nurse's 
stories really lives. They call it the gougou. They say it is so 
tall that the mast of a big ship comes only to its waist. The 
most wonderful thing about it is its pockets. " They are big 
enough to put a ship into," the Indians say. " It eats men, and 
it makes a horrible growling and screeching," they tell us ; 
and then they look over their shoulders as if it might come 
upon them at any minute. Ask nurse if she cannot make you 
a story about it that will be as good as any she tells you. 

The Indians believe that what they say of the gougou is 
true, but they say a great many things that they know are not 
at all true. When they wanted the Governor to luring his fire- 
stick and win a battle for them, they told him that he could 
go all the journey in his sailboat; but he soon came to rapids 

75 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

that no sailboat and no canoe could make its way through. 
He never gets out of patience with them, however; and when 
he came home from the battle he said he felt sure that if he 
could show them how to live differently and how to cultivate 
the ground, they would be glad to live like white men. They 
like him, and I do not wonder, for he is very kind to them, as 
indeed he is to everybody around him. Captain Pontgrave is 
to sail for France to-morrow. He is to carry some presents to 
the king. They will not be gold or silver, but they will inter- 
est him, I am sure. One thing is a belt beautifully wrought 
with porcupine quills. He has also two birds with the most 
brilliant scarlet feathers you can imagine; and he has a dried 
head of the fish whose teeth the Indians believe will cure 
headaches. He has promised me that he will carry this letter 
and a little package for you. How I wish I knew what you 
would like best to see when you open it! I can only guess, but 
I am going to put in two pairs of moccasins, the kind of shoes 
that the Indians wear. They are wrought with porcupine 
quills just as the king's belt is. One pair is for you and the 
other is for you to give to nurse. There will be a bow and 
arrows, too. They are real ones, just the kind the Indian boys 
use. I hope that a good while before I come home you will 
know how to hit a mark a long way off. Another thing that 
is going to you is a tiny buckskin bag; and when you untie 
the string you will see something bright and glittering. It is 
little crystals that I picked up and saved for you. I climbed 

76 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

up the narrow, winding path to the top of the Rock. Then I 
walked np the river for a mile or two, though the river was 
far below me and I Avas on top of a high cliff. That is where 
I found them. There is one more thing in the package, and 
that is the skin of a wolf that I shot. It is so soft and warm 
that you can ask nurse to lay it on your bed to keep you com- 
fortable when the nights are cold. Is not the Sieur de Cham- 
plain good to take the trouble to carry all those things to a 
little ho J away off across the ocean? Perhaps he will send 
them to you from Paris, but I am sure he would like to have 
a glimpse of old Bi-ouage, and maybe he wnll give them to 
you himself. If he does, be sure to thank him as prettily as 
you laiow how. 

Be a good boy, Guillaume, and help nurse all you can. I 
like to think of you safe and happy in her little cottage, wait- 
ing for me to come home to you. Think of me very often, my 
Guillaume, and when you repeat "Our Father," don't forget 
to say a little prayer for the big brother away off in Quebec 
who loves you so much and is trying so hard to be both father 
and mother to you. 



ly 



A Second Letter from Henri Lamotte in Canada 
to his brother GnMamne in France 



Quebec, May 7, 1613. 

IF I call you my little brother, shall you stand uj3 very 
straight and say, '' I am not little any longer. I am almost 
a man. I am twelve years old?" I suppose you are; but it is 
hard to realize that you are not the little fellow whom I left 
with nurse sobbing on the quay at Honfleur five long years 
ago. I have written you a letter to send by every vessel that 
has sailed from here for France. I do not know when the next 
one will sail, but a letter shall be ready to go with it. 

I am glad that you have seen the Sieur de Champlain. He 
told me that you were a tall, manly boy. He was pleased 
because you looked him straight in the eye. He said if you 
had been a little older he should have been glad to bring you 
with him when he came back to Quebec. I hope that will 
never be, because — but I will tell you by and by. 

We missed the Governor sadly whenever he went to France. 
No one else is quite so wise as he or knows so well what to 
do. The Indians will do anything for him. He even persuaded 

78 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

them to take a French boy home with them for the Aviiiter. 
The boy was eager to go, and the Governor was ahnost as 
eager to have him, for he conld learn the language well; and 





then, too, he conld find out what lakes and rivers were in their 
country, and whether there were any mines of copper or silver 
or gold. The boy begged to go, and the Indians ])romised to 

79 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

take him. A little later they said no, they were not willing. 
" But you agreed that he might go with you," the Governor 
said. " You call me yonr friend, but you do not keep jour 
promise; you are not treating me like a friend." "But we do 
not have the kind of food that the white men eat," they 
declared. " Something might happen to him, and then you 
would be angry." " I should be angry," said the Governor, 
" if you did not treat him kindly, but not if anything happened 
to him that yon could not prevent." The Indians talked to- 
gether a while, then they asked, " Will you take one of our 
young men across the sea in the great ship?" When the Gov- 
ernor said yes, they were delighted and went off with the 
French boy. They met in the spring, and how you would 
have liked to see the meeting ! The Indians came first, and in 
one of their canoes was the French boy. They looked all 
around to find the Sieur de Champlain and the Indian boy ; 
but they were on shore and could not be seen. Then they 
caught sight of the Governor just getting into his canoe to 
come to meet them. Some one was getting in with him, — a 
young man dressed like a Frenchman. As the boat came 
nearer, they saw in a minute or two that the young French- 
man was their Indian boy. They were so pleased that they all 
stopped paddling and shouted for joy. The Governor fired his 
gun in return, and they began to make speeches telling how 
well they had kept their promises and how finely the young 
man had been treated. " See how well your boy looks," the 

80 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

Indians said. " Have we not been good to him ? We are trne 
friends and brothers to the French, and you may always be- 
Heve in ns. Our words are words of truth." Then the French 
boy said good-by to the Indians and came Ijack to Quebec. 
The Indian boy went home with his tribe, but he told the 
Governor that he did not want to go ; he would much rather 
live in Paris. 

The Governor has always kept his promises to them and 
has always told them the truth. That is why they trust him 
and believe every word that he saj^s. Do you remember that 
when we first came here no one but the comj^any was allowed 
to trade in fui'S V After a while the king said that any one 
who wished might trade. The Governor had appointed a i:)lace 
for the Indians to meet him and bring the furs that they had 
collected during the winter. They were glad to think that 
they were going to see him ; but they were not at all glad to 
see the crowd of other traders. The Governor always treats 
them politely; but these new traders were so eager to buy 
that they pushed into the wigwams and almost snatched at 
the furs. The Indians were much displeased. They asked the 
Sieur de Champlain to come to their wigwams in the night 
when the strangers would not be near. '' Why did you not 
come alone ? " they asked. " Why did you let those other 
traders come ? " " I did not wish them to come," he replied, 
" but the king allowed it this year. We hope matters will be 
better next season." " WcAvill have nothing to do with them," 

81 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

the Indians declared. " We will not stay here where they are." 
In the morning when the traders came to load themselves with 
furs, not an Indian was to be seen. They had all gone away, 
and no one but the Governor knew where. 

If you had been at Tadousac the last time the Clovernor came 
from France, you would have seen how much the Indians love 
him. I had gone to carry a message from Quebec, and I was 
there when the ship came. As soon as the Indians caught a 
glimpse of it, they knew it was Captain Pontgrave's vessel, and 
they leaped into their canoes and paddled out to meet it. They 
climbed on board like so many squirrels and cried, "Where 
is our friend ? Where is the Governor ? " The sailors said, 
" Oh, he has had enough of Quebec. He does n't care to see the 
Indians any more, so he stayed in France." The Indians looked 
straight at the sailors for a moment. They saw that the men 
were not in earnest, and they gave a scornful grunt. Then 
they set out in search of the CTOvernor. He had kept a little 
out of sight to see what they would do. He found out pretty 
soon, for they came upon him in a swarm. He acted as if he 
did not know them, but suddenly one caught hold of his ear. 
"It is he, it is our brother!" he cried. "See, here is the mark 
of the arrow ! " In one of the battles that he had helped them 
fight, an arrow had wounded the lobe of his ear, and they had 
never forgotten it. Did you ever see a pack of dogs welcome 
their master ? That was the way the Indians behaved. They 
had had a hard winter, they were almost starving even then; 

82 



i 



HENRI LAMOTTE OF CANADA 

but their great white brother had come, and they knew he 
would be kind to them and help them. I was on board the ship 
and saw it all. When the vessel first came in sight, I was in 
a canoe with an Indian who had just paddled me across from 
the farther bank of the river. He began to paddle out toward 
the ship as fast as he could, and I could not persuade him to 
put me ashore first. Indeed, though, I did not try so very hard, 
for I wanted to get on board as much as he. Can you guess 
why ? It was because I was sure that there would be a letter 
from my little brother who is now so nearly a big brother; and 
I knew that the kind Governor would have it where he could 
give it to me the first minute I saw him. He did give me the 
letter, and a little later, when I could see him alone, he told me 
something that was even better than that. Don't you Avonder 
what it could be ? It was that the bit of money which I had had 
to invest in the Company had gained more than I had expected. 
It is not much, it is no fortune, but after one year more there 
will be enough to buy a share in the salt works. Then I shall 
know that my little brother is looked out for, and I can come 
back to you and France. There will be a chance for me there, 
I am sure. This is a wonderful country with its noble forests 
and its mighty rivers. There is plenty of copper and perhaps 
there may be gold and silver. People will surely come here to 
live. Some day there will be villages and cities. I wish I could 
see the land in, say, three hundred years; but for to-day I want 
to go back to Hrouage and the little brother. 

83 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

Thank the good God for us, my Guillaume ; and every night 
when the curfew rings say to yourself, "• The time is one day 
nearer." Good-by, my brother. This letter will go to you when 
Captain Pontgrave returns. When the next ship sails for 
France I shall hope to be on board. Till. then, good-by. 



A Letter ivritten at Ply mouth by John BUUnyton 
to his Grandmother in England 



PlymoutJu March 24, 1621. 

IPKOMISED to write you a letter, and now I am doing it. We 
did not go to Virginia, for the Avind was wrong and we came 
to Cape Cod. Mr. William Bradford went out to see what kind 
of place it was. Some other men went with him. They came to 
a trap that the Indians had set for deer. He walked into it, and 
the tree sprang up and caught him by the leg. Xobody said 
he ought not to have walked into it, and nobody blamed him. 
They would have blamed me. 

I don't think anybody here cares much about me. They call 
me the Billington boy. When Ave Avere in the MayfloAver and 
the men Avere looking for a place to settle, I fired off my father's 
gun one day in the cabin. Everybody Avas talking about the 
dreadful things the Indians had done in Virginia, and I Avanted 
to knoAv hoAV to shoot. Don't you think I ought to ? I did n't 
remember that the barrel of powder Avas so near, and I did n't 
think the gun Avould make such a noise or scare the people so. 
I Avas a little scared, too, but it Avas funny to see hoAV they all 

85 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

iumped. Honestly, grandma, I did not really mean to do it. I 
only meant to jduII the trigger just the least bit, only enongh to 
see how it would go — and it went. The babies screamed and 
the women all ran out of the cabin. The men scolded me and 
said I was foolish and wicked. But, grandma, it is only the other 
day that a man fired at a whale, and his musket l)urst and went 
to pieces; and all they said was that they thanked God that no 
one was hurt. The whale was not hurt either. It just snorted 
and swam away. Father said it did n't like N^ew England laws 
and would n't stay to be ruled by the Compact. The Compact 
is a paper that the men had to sign before they landed. It said 
that they were going to make some laws and everybody had to 
promise to obey them. I heard a man say to father that King 
James's laws were for Yirginia, and now that we were not 
going to be in Virginia at all, we could do whatever we liked. 
That's why they made a Compact. Father signed it, but I 
don't believe he wanted to very much. 

After the Compact was done, some men went ashore. They 
brought back their boat full of juniper, and when we burned it, 
it smelled good. The women went ashore to do some washing. I 
am strong and I would have brought them water, but they would 
not let me go. The carpenters were working on the shallop, 
and Captain Standish Avent ashore to see what he could find. I 
like Captain Standish. He doesn't call me the Billington boy, 
and he let me see his sword. He used it when he fought the 
Turks. It has some queer marks on it that he says is Arabic. 

86 



*■» 






mrw 










tl."* 






LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

Some more men went with Captain Standish. Every one had 
a corselet and musket and sword. I wanted to go with them 
dreadfully, but I did n't dare to ask, and they wouldn't have 
let me if I had. I watched every one that got into the boat, and 
I kept Avishing some one would say, " Here 's just room for 
a boy if he is n't too big." Captain Standish did not say that, 
but he did tell me something else. He was the last one' to get 
in, and he turned to me and said real low, " John, when we 
come back, I '11 tell you all about it. If you were a few years 
older, I 'd like to take you with me." Was n't that just splen- 
did! He did it, too; I mean, he told me about it. He said that 
after they had walked about a mile they saw some Indians and 
a dog away off, but they ran away. Dogs always like me, and 
if I had been there maybe I could have called it and we could 
have made friends with them. They saw a deer, too, and ever 
so much sassafras. Master Jones, the captain of the Mayflower, 
says I may send you a big bundle of it when the ship goes back. 
They found nuts and strawberry vines. In one place there was 
a great kettle that must have come from some ship. N^ear it was 
a heap of moist sand. The Indians had patted and smoothed it so 
you could see the very marks of their fingers. They dug into 
the mound and there was a great basketful of corn. They filled 
the kettle with it and their pockets, too, and then they started 
for the ship. They call the place Corn Hill. That was when Mr. 
Bradford got caught by the leg. They mean to give back the 
kettle and pa}^ for the corn when they see some Lidians. jNIaybe 

88 



JOHN BILLINGTON OF PLYMOUTH 

the Indians won't mind, but people don't like it when I take their 
things without asking. Keally, they did n't do a thing but walk 
and look, and I could have done that as well as any of them. 

AVhen the shallop was finished, Master Jones and thirty or 
forty other men went away in it to explore. They went to Corn 
Hill again, and this time they took corn and beans and wheat. 
I heard one of them say it was God's good providence that 
they found them ; but they never say that when I borrow things 
without asking. They say so much that it is a real shame I 
could not have gone. They did not find any Indians, but they 
went into some of their houses; and there they saw deers' 
heads and horns and eagles' claws and all sorts of baskets and 
wooden and earthen dishes. 

Another time they went out in the shallop to try to find a place 
to settle, and this time they were gone almost two weeks. Don't 
I wish I could have been with them ! Captain Standish told me 
and Francis about it, and the other boys listened. The pilot 
wanted to go across the big bay to a place that he saw when 
he was here once before, but the others thought it was too far. 
He called it Thievish Harbor because one of the Indians stole 
a harpoon from them Avhile they were there. I asked the Captain 
if the sailor knew that the Indian did not mean to give it back 
or pay for it. He looked funny, as if he wanted to laugh and 
would n't, but all he said was " Maybe." They had a splendid 
time on this journey. They saw Indians sometimes, but they 
ran away. They saw a grampus lying dead on the shore. That 

89 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

is a great fish eighteen or twenty feet long. Every night they 
built a kind of barricade, as they called it, to keep the wind off. 
They drove stakes into the ground on three sides, and then they 
twisted in pine boughs. One night they heard an awful yell and 
the sentinel called, " Arm ! Arm ! " They fired two muskets, 
and then it was still again, and so they went to sleep. The next 
day some Indians shot at them and they shot back. They call 
this the Place of the First Encounter. They ])icked up a bundle 
of the arrows, and Master Jones is going to carry them to 
England. Some have heads of brass, some of deers' horns, and 
some of eagles' claws. Once they were almost shipwrecked. I 
never was shipwrecked, and maybe I shan't evei- have a chance. 
It snowed and it rained. The wind blew furiously and there 
wei*e monstrous waves. The rudder broke, and the mast broke 
and the sail fell overboard. It was dark as pitch, but they rowed 
aAvay from where they heard the breakers and got in the lee of 
some land and went ashore. In the night everything froze, but 
in the morning they found they were on a little island. They 
dried their clothes and they stayed there over Sunday. 

That 's all I am going to Avrite now, for Francis wants me to 
go on a hill a little way off with him. He climbed a tree there 
and he says he saw a great sea not very far away. 

From Johnnie. 

P. S. I 'm going to write some more to this letter before the 
Mayflower sails. 

90 




AN INDIAN IIUNNINO AWAV 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

This is the rest of my letter. 

Every time that Captain Standish came back to the ship he 
told us what he had seen. One day one of the sailors came to me 
afterwards and said, " I suppose he 's been telling you about the 



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liy pcrtnission itt X. E. :\Iutual Life Ins. Co. 

THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS 



shore." I said '' Yes," and he asked, " Did he find a place that 
he liked ? " I said I did n't know, but that he talked most of a 
place where a long arm of land runs out to make a harbor and 
where the land goes up into a high hill. The sailor looked cross, 
and he muttered, " They 'd better decide pretty soon or we '11 

92 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

put their goods on the shore and leave them." I told the Cap- 
tain and he said, " The man is right, and to-morrow morning 
we must decide upon a place." 

Was n't I glad, though ! I should n't mind beiiig wrecked, but 
it was horrid to have to stay on the ship so long. There was n't 
much of anything to do, and whenever I did do anything, some 
one always called it " foolish and mischievous." You never 
called me foolish, did you ? Mr. Bradford was sick all the time 
when he was a boy, and I don't believe he ever wanted to do 
the things that I want to do. 

They did choose a place the next morning, and it was the one 
that Captain Standish talked most about. Ever so many people 
were sick, but those that could work went ashore. Some cut 
down trees, some sawed and split, and some carried timber to the 
place where they were building a house to hold the goods. It 
has a thatched roof. I helped make it, for I carried ever so much 
thatch. I tried to catch some fish, too. I 'd brought a hook with 
me all the way from England; but the hook went into my thumb; 
and after I got it out I slipped off the rock where we landed 
and lost my hook and line. It was the only small hook there was, 
for the rest brought too big ones. They scolded me and said I 
was careless, but I don't see how it was my fault that the rock 
was slippery and wet. Everything was wet, for it rained almost 
all the time. When it did not raiu, the men worked on their 
houses. They made the people into nineteen families. I should 
not like to be a single man, for they all had to go into other 

94 



JOHN BILLINGTON OF PLYMOUTH 

people's families. Each one was to build his own house, and 
as soon as it was done his family could come from the shij), 
and they and the single men who Avere to live with them could 
move in. jS^ot half the houses are done yet, and people have to 




By permission of X. E. Mutual Life Ins. Co. 

MARY CHILTON LANDING ON PLYMOUTH ROCK 



crowd together in the best way they can. The houses are made 
of logs, and mud is jammed into the cracks between the logs. 
The roofs are thatched, and the windows are covered with 
paper soaked in linseed oil. Every person has a piece of land 

95 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

three poles long and half a pole wide. They marked out the 
pieces and then they drew lots for them. The houses are to be 
in two rows not far apart, and on top of the hill there is a plat- 
form for cannon to frighten the Indians away if they trouble us. 
We could see the smoke of their fires almost every day and the 
blaze at night ; but they did not come near us for ever so long. 

My l)rother Francis saw some Indian houses before I did. 
He told one of the mates of the Mayflower about the great sea 
that he had seen from the top of a tree on the hill, and one day 
the mate took him to find it. It was about three miles away, 
and it was not a sea at all, but only two big ponds. That was 
when Francis saw the Indian houses, for they were not far from 
the ponds. The mate told everybody about the ponds, and now 
they call them Billington Sea. I don't think it is polite to make 
fun of people, do you, and to keep telling them that things are 
all their fault ? If I was lost in the woods, I know they would 
all say I ought to have been careful; but two men were lost 
once and nobody said a word to blame them. 

This is the way they were lost. They went out to gather 
thatch, and when it was time to eat, they took their food and 
went to walk. Two dogs went with them. They saw a deer, and 
the dogs chased it. They followed and got lost in the woods. 
When night came, they had to lie down in the snow; but they 
thought they heard two lions roar, and so they got up and 
walked back and forth all night, ready to climb a tree if the 
lions came. The next day they went up a high hill, and then 

96 



'Ill I ' 




LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

they saw where they were and so found their way back to 
Plymouth. Captain John Smith called this place Plymouth, 
and our people call it so, too. They like that name because the 
people of Plymouth in England were so good to them when 
they Avere there. It was just after the two lost men came back 
that the thatch caught fire. They said it was because I put 
such a quantity of dry spruce tw^igs on the fire. 

I should n't have cared to be with the two men when they 
were lost, but I wish I could have been with John Goodman 
one day after he came back. He went out into the woods, and a 
little spaniel followed. Two great wolves set upon the spaniel, 
and it was so frightened that it ran between his legs. He threw 
a stick at one of the wolves and they ran away; but they came 
back again. He had n't any musket, so he could n't kill them, 
and they did not quite dare to attack him. They sat on their 
tails and grinned at him, he said, and I suppose he and the 
spaniel grinned at them; and then they all went home. 

John Goodman's feet were lame for a long time after he was 
lost because he had to be out in the snow so long. Ever so many 
people were sick, and a good many died. Captain Standish's 
wife died, and he was very sorry. I was sorry, too. I liked her. 
He was n't sick at all, neither was Elder Brewster. These two 
and four or five others took care of the sick people. I thought 
soldiers didn't do anything but fight; but the Captain brought 
wood and made fires. He cooked things for the sick folks to eat, 
and made their beds and washed their clothes. The sailors were 

98 



JOHN BILLINGTON OF PLYMOUTH 

sick, too, but they did not help one another at all. Qui- people 
who were left on board helped them all they could. Master Jones 
is good to us. He sent word to Governor Carver that if the sick 
people on shore wanted beer they should have it, even if the 
sailors had nothing but water to drink all the way home. He 
shot some geese one day and he gave them to the sick. 

One of our men went out to shoot geese. He hid in the tall 
reeds, and twelve Indians went past him. He heard ever so many 
more in the woods. That night w^e could see a great fire near 
the place. That same day Captain Standish and another man left 
their axes in the woods when they came home to dinner, and 
when they went back the axes w^ere gone. Master Jones and 
some of the sailors came ashore and brought a cannon and helped 
get it up the hill, and some smaller guns, too, so that now we are 
not one bit afraid of any Indians. They are afraid of us, though, 
and they don't dare to come near. They sneak around behind 
trees and rocks and run when they see us coming. One day two 
came to the top of a hill a little way off and began to beckon to 
us. Our men beckoned to them, but they did not come. Then 
Captain Standish and another man went toward them. The 
Captain carried a musket, but he laid it down to show them 
that he did not mean to hurt them. I got up on top of one of 
the houses so as to see everything; but there was not one 
thing to see, for they all ran away. 

And now I have something really great to tell you, grandma! 
Just think, we 've got a tame Indian. His name is Samoset. He 's 

99 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

tall and straight and he has straight black hair, long behind and 
short in front. He does not wear any clothes except a buckskin 
belt with a fringe to it; that is, he didn't when he came. This 
is the way we knew him first. He came striding np to the houses 
as if he lived here, not one bit afraid, and went straight to the 
common house that we call the Rendezvous. He was just going 
in when Captain Standish and some of the other men stopped 
him. He did n't run, but looked right into their faces and cried, 
" Welcome, Englishmen, welcome ! " I was just around the 
corner of the house where I could hear every word that he 
said. He told the men that he lived a long way off in some place 
where the Englishmen came to fish. He liked Englishmen and 
was glad to see more of them. They always gave him beer, he 
said, and he liked beer. Our people did n't give him any beer, 
but they gave him strong water and biscuit and butter and cheese 
and pudding and a j^iece of roasted duck. He ate as if he had n't 
had anything for a week; and then he talked. He knew a good 
many English words, and he could make signs well ; so we could 
understand almost everything he tried to say. He came in the 
morning, and he talked all the afternoon. The wind blew up 
cold and some one put a coat on him. He looked comical enough 
with his bare legs coming down below the coat-tails. He told us 
all about the Indian chiefs that live around us. He knew just 
how many men each one had. We had wondered how it hap- 
pened that so much land about here was old cornfield; and he 
told us that once there were many Indians here, but they wei-e 

100 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

sick and died; and then Caj^tain Standish told him about the 
Indians' steaUng his axe and things. " I shall punish them," said 
the Captain ; but the Indian said, " No, they come back soon — 
some day — not long." He said that the Indians who stole the 
things live near us and that they hate the English. I should 
think they would, for he says a ship full of Englishmen came 
here once and stole some young men of their tribe to sell as 
slaves to the Spaniards. That is why they fired on our men at 
the First Encounter when we first came. 

When it was almost night, Governor Carver told Samoset 
that it was time for him to go; but he said, " ISTo, I stay." The 
Governor and Captain Standish did not want him to stay in 
Plymouth, for they did not know what he might do in the night ; 
so they said, " We will take you to the ship." " Good," he said, 
" that is good." They got into the shallop, but the wind was 
so high that they could n't get to the shijD. Then they gave 
him a place to sleep in Mr. Hopkins's house. Some'of the men 
watched him all night, and they said he slept like a baby. 

When morning came, he was not in any hurry to go, but 
Governor Carver gave him a bracelet and a ring and said 
" Good-by." He put on the ring and then the bracelet, but still 
he did not go. At last the Governor gave him a knife, and he 
was so pleased with it that he did n't seem to notice that they 
were leading him away from the houses. He kept looking at his 
knife, putting it into the sheath and pulling it out again. When 
the men had him far enough away, they said " Good-by," and 

102 



JOHN BILLINGTON OF PLYMOUTH 

turned back. He looked up a moment, the}' said, and called out, 
" Good-by, soon again I come," and walked off, still looking 
at his knife. 

He had said before that when he came back he would brina: 
some of Massasoit's men with him, and the very next day he 
did it. He brought five big strong men. They wore some clothes 
of skins, a sort of tight-fitting trousers, and over their shoulders 
they had deerskins. Some of them had their hair done up in a 
tight roll. Sometimes a feather was stuck into this roll and some- 
times a fox's tail. Their faces were painted, and such painting! 
It was nothing at all but a stripe of black as broad as my hand 
from the forehead to the chin. Our people gave them something 
to eat, and they gave us back the tools that they stole in the 
woods. After they had eaten, they sang and they danced. Such 
singing I am sure you never heard, for it was nothing at all but 
howling and screeching. Their dancing was just beating the 
ground w ith their feet and hopping up and dow^n. They brought 
some skins with them to exchange for beads and other things ; 
but it was Sunday, and so Governor Carver shook his head. 
Then he showed them some beads and pointed to where the 
sun rises and then to the skins and smiled. They knew that 
meant that he would barter with them the next dav, and they 
went away. 

It w^as n't so easy to get i-id of our tame Indian. AVhen Cap- 
tain Standish told him that the others were going, he only 
grunted and said, '' Me stay." " Xo, you must go with them," 

103 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

the Captain said; but he smiled and said, "Me stay with you. 
Like Enghshmen." " No, Samoset," the Captain said, " you 
must go. You must go now, but you may come again soon." 
" Yes, come again," said Samoset. " Me sick, can't go now ; " 
and in spite of all they could do, he stayed till Wednesday. 
The others did not come back to sell their furs, and at last 
Captain Standish got Samoset to go and see why. I don't 
believe he would have gone then if they had not given him 
some things that he wanted to show off. They gave him a hat 
and a shirt and some shoes and stockings. He was proud as 
a peacock and he walked just like one. They did n't feel sure 
then that he would go, and we watched him till we could n't 
see his shirt flap in the trees any longer. 

He came back the very next day and brought some more 
Indians with him. He pointed to one of them and said, " Him 
Squanto. Him stolen to England." Squanto could speak English 
better than Samoset because he had lived with a merchant in 
England. They told us that their chief was on the w^ay to visit 
us. His name is Massasoit and he has a brother Quadequina. 
It was not very long before we saw fifty or sixty Indians stand- 
ing on the top of the hill. We beckoned, but they shook their 
heads and beckoned to us. Then Squanto went up the hill and 
asked them to come down, but they said no, some one must 
come and talk with them and tell them what our chief wanted, 
whether he wanted to have war or peace. 

Then Mr. Edward Winslow went to them. He wore his armor 

104 



JOHN BILLINGTON OF PLYMOUTH 




By permission of N. E. Mutual Life Ins. Co- 

ATTACKED WHEN COMING FROM CHURCH 

and sword, of course, but he took some presents. He gave the 
khig two knives and a copper chain, and he gave Quadequina 
one knife and an ornament to hang in his ear. He gave them 
some biscuit, too, and butter and a pot of strong water. The king 
put the chain around his neck and Quadequina put the oi-na- 
ment into his ear, and they looked at their knives and grunted. 
Then Mr. Winslow made a speech. I had sh'pped around back 
of a Httle ridge so as to be nearer, and I could hear every word 

105 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

he said. He began, " Our high and mighty Prince, King James, 
saUites you with words of love and peace. He accepts you as 
his friend and ally." There was ever so much more that I forget. 
Samoset and Squanto said it over to the chief in Indian. They 
all looked as if they did not understand it very well, and. the 
tame Indians tried two or three times to tell it better. At last 
Samoset pointed to the chief and said, " Englishmen's king much 
friend. Him know." Then he said something in Indian and Mas- 
sasoit nodded. Mr. Winthrop talked some more to Massasoit. 
He said that our Governor wanted to see him to make peace 
and barter with him. The chief seemed to understand that in no 
time at all. He nodded and pointed to Mr. Winslow's sword and 
armor and said something that anybody could guess meant, "' I 
want those." Mr. AYinslow shook his head and pointed down 
the hill to Governor Carver. After a while Massasoit made up 
his mind to come and see the Governor. Samoset and Squanto 
must have told him he could n't take his arrows with him, for 
he and the other Indians who came with him dropped them on 
the ground and left them. Mr. Winslow had to stay with Qua- 
dequina, and we kept some Indians with us so they would not 
dare to hurt Mr. Winslow. 

I tell you, grandma, I wasn't sorry then that I was not so 
very big, for I could slip through places where the men could 
not, and I saw everything there was to see. I crej^t around by 
the hill and then I got into the house where I knew they would 
bring him. Captain Standish and some more men stood beside 

lOG 



X I A. Ill 







LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

the brook, and when the chief came, one walked on one side of 
him and one on the other, and the other Indians followed. I 
conld get near enough then to see everything about him, and 
I tell you, grandma, it is n't half so big a sight when King James 
rides out. Massasoit wore a kind of tight-fitting trousers made 
of skins and a great deerskin over his shoulders. Around his 
neck he had a long chain of white beads made of bones. A little 
bag of tobacco hung down his back. Some of his men wore furs, 
and some did n't have a thing to wear but their own skins, so 
they had painted those, or at least their faces. Some were black, 
some red, some yellow, and some white. Some had just long 
streaks of paint down their faces; but some had crosses and 
rings and all sorts of queer figures. 

You ought to have seen the Governor march into the house, 
grandma. Indians don't sit on chairs, so the men had spread out 
a big green rug and put three or four cushions on it. Just as 
soon as Massasoit was inside the house, we heard a great beat- 
ing of the drum and a sounding of the trumpet, and then the 
Governor came in. Massasoit looked half scared, and when the 
Governor took up his hand and kissed it, I thought he was going 
to run. I sort of hoped he would, for I thought he might drop 
one of his new knives and I could find it. I suppose, though, 
they would not have let me keep it if I had. The king has good 
pluck, for he did n't run but kissed the Governor instead. I 
should n't have liked that very well, for Massasoit's head and 
face were all daubed with grease. I could n't help saying " Oh ! " 

108 



JOHN BILLINGTON OF PLYMOUTH 

for he was so horrid. I wish I had n't, though, for some of the 
Indians looked straight at me and the men told me to leave 
quick. I had to go, but I climbed up into a tree that was close 
by the window, and I could see there as well as anywhere. 

There was n't anything to see, though, for as soon as they 
had drunk some strong water and eaten some meat they began 
to talk about a treaty. I did not care anything about that, so I 
went off not far from the brook where I could be sure of seeing 
the chief when he came out again. The Captain told me after- 
wards that the treaty meant that Massasoit was going to help 
us if any other Indians tried to hurt us, and we were to help him 
if they came to fight him. It did not say what we were to do if 
any white men came to hurt him or steal his j)eople to sell in 
Spain for slaves. 

After a while the chief went away. I thought the show was 
all over, but pretty soon some Indians came and told us that 
Quadequina was coming. The men took him to the house and 
gave him a cushion to sit on and something to eat and drink. 
He was afraid of the cannon, but he liked the trumpet. Some 
of his men tried to sound it, and queer work they made of it. 

I don't see why anybody need to be afraid of the Indians. I 
am sure that they like us ever so much. They stayed all night in 
the woods not far away, and they said they would come again 
in a little while to plant corn, and then they would stay all 
summer. Samoset and Squanto would n't go away at all. I was 
glad they didn't, for I like eels and Squanto gets them for us. 

109 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

He knows just where to find them. It is a muddy place, and he 
treads it ail over barefoot till he feels an eel. Then he takes it 
out with his hands. He says he won't ever leave us. 



It is ever so long since I wrote this. I would n't have done 
it so soon, but Master Jones meant to sail a good while ago. 
He couldn't because the Kendezvous caught fire and thei-e 
was no place for the people to stay but on the ship. Then, 
too, he did n't dare to sail till the sailors were well. 

Something awful has happened, grandma, since I wrote the 
first of this. The people chose Captain Standi sh to be captain 
here, and if there was any fighting to be done, he was to tell 
them what to do. One day my father said he knew how to fight 
as well as Miles Standish, and he was not going to mind him. 
Some one heard it, and father was provoked, and he talked 
back to them . and said something dreadful to the Captain. 
I don't know^ what it was ; but they said he 'd got to have his 
neck and heels tied together for a punishment. I guess he 
must have told them he was sorry, for they let him off. Cap- 
tain Standish looked sorry. Some of the boys began to call me 
the Billington brat and to say things about my father. I met 
one of them alone on the farther side of the great hill, and I 
whipped him well. He is bigger than I am. He said his 
father w^ould tell the Governor, and I said, " You '11 be sorry 
if he does," and he did n't. Mr. Bradford says we are pilgrims 
and we must not care where we make our pilgrimage, but I 

110 



JOHN BILLINGTON OF PLYMOUTH 

do. I wish I could have gone with Uncle Francis to Virginia. 
I don't mind being a pilgrim, but I'd like to make my pilgrim- 
age where they don't call me the Billington boy. I Avish I 





knew how far it is to Virginia. I asked Sqnanto if the Indians 
would be good to me if I went to see them, and he said, " Some 
little English boy — no. You boy — yes." 

Ill 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

The Mayflower is going to sail to-moiTOw. Master Jones 
promised to carry my letter and my sassafras. I 've got you 
a big bundle of it ; and if you are sick, it will make you well 
again. I want to see you. 



YI 



A Second Letter from John BUIington to his 
Grandmother in Englcmd 



Plymotith, Deceviber 13, 1621. 

YOU can't guess how many things Squanto has taught us. 
We have n't any mill to grind corn and he showed us how 
the Indians grind theirs. They cut down an old tree and burn a 
hole down into the stump. Then they tie a heavy block of wood 
to the tip of a young tree. They put the corn into the hole and 
pull the tree down so that it pounds the corn. They keep on 
doing this and by and by the corn is meal. He showed us how 
to plant corn, too. It is the queerest way you ever saw. He puts 
a dead herring into the hill with the corn to make it grow, and 
he plants beans with it so they will run up on the corn-stalks. 
A little boy here Avatched him and asked, " Will the corn come 
up or the herring?" I don't think I was ever so stupid as that, 
do you? Bushels and bushels of herring swim up our brook, 
and Ave can catch them with nets. I had n't any net and I made 
one. I cut some strips from a bass wood tree and tied them to- 
gether so it was all open like a net. Then I got a long piece of 
willow and twisted it to make a ring and tied the net to it. I 

113 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

could not make any handle stay on well, but I sat down on the 
edge of the brook and leaned over and I caught some fish. The 
men said I frightened them — I mean the fish — and made me 
go away; but, truly, I didn't splash much except when one of 
those boys that called me the Billington brat was near enough 
to be hit. If I was dead, don't you believe they 'd be sorry they 
were always finding fault with me? 

They won't let me go on any of their journeys. This summer 
Mr. Winslow and Mr. Hopkins went to visit Massasoit. Squanto 
showed them the way. They carried him a copper chain and a 
coat made of red cloth trimmed with lace. They told him about 
the corn that they borrowed when they first came, and they 
asked him to find whose it was so they could pay for it in corn 
or meal or anything else that they had. Massasoit promised to 
find out who owned it. He put on the red coat and the chain, 
and didn't he feel fine ! He walked up and down and his men 
all shouted, they were so pleased to see him look so splendid. 

I heard Mr. Winslow telling about it, and I listened as hard 
as ever I could, for I mean some day to visit an Indian all by 
myself. One thing that they did I don't think was very polite. 
When Massasoit came here he told us he was coming and there 
was time to put down the green rug and the cushions and screw 
up the drum and get something ready to give him to eat ; but 
Mr. Winslow did not send word. Massasoit told them he was 
glad to see them and promised that his people should all bring 
their beaver skins to us and he gave them some tobacco to smoke ; 

114 




C7 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

but there was not a thing in the house to eat. He had been away 
and did not get back till they had been there a while. They 
had to go to bed hungry, and they did not have a bite till after- 
noon the next day ; and then it was not much more than a bite, 
for there were only two fishes and there were as many as forty 
people that wanted to eat some of them. Massasoit was so 
ashamed that he did not know what to say ; but don't you think 
it was their fault? I do. 

A little after they came home I did something that they all 
say is very bad. I had made a snare to catch a squirrel, and I 
was creeping along to it as softly as I could when I heard Cap- 
tain Standish say, " I rather think the boy '11 come out all right." 
Then some one else said, " Maybe so, but it seems to me a great 
pity that Billington and his family should ever have come on 
board in England. He is with us, but not of us. His thoughts are 
not our thoughts, nor are his ways our ways. He is no more in 
sympathy with us than yonder rock." The two men were just 
under the bank so I could n't see them, but I could hear every 
word. I knew they meant me, and I did not want to stay any 
longer. I thought I 'd go to Virginia. Uncle Francis is there. 
He is always good to me, and I was sure he 'd be glad to see 
me. I did n't think either father or mother would care very much. 
Of course I knew Virginia was a long way off, but I thought 
that if I could find Massasoit I could make him understand 
where I wanted to go, and he would send some one to show me 
the way, or maybe he would let me live with him. There 

116 



JOHN BILLINGTON OF PLYMOUTH 

was n't anything to be afraid of except the N^arragansett Indians, 
and I thought Massasoit would know how to go around their 
country. So I started out in the woods one morning the same 
way that Mr. Winslow had gone. I took some parched corn 
in my pocket and I ate it for dinner. There was plenty of 
water to drink and I found some wild strawberries. I thouo-ht 
I should come to Massasoit's house before night or to some of 
his men ; but I did n't. When night came I lay down on some 
moss. The next morning I ate more berries and some sassa- 
fras and birch bark. Then I came to the shore. I stayed by 
the shore, for I thought maybe I should see a ship going to 
Yirgiiiia and it would stop for water. The next night I lay 
down on the sand beside a rock. It was not cold and I was 
not much afraid. There were two more nights and then I saw 
some Indians. They were getting lobsters, and they gave me 
some to eat and some cake made of corn meal. They had 
canoes, and when they left, one of them took me with him 
ever so far away to his town. He called it iSTauset. There were 
a good many of their houses. They build them of young trees. 
They cut the trees down and stick both ends into the ground. 
When they have stuck in enough to make a ring, their house 
is done. They leave a place to go in and hang a mat before 
it; and the whole house is covered with mats, outside and 
inside. There is n't any chimney, but there is a hole in the top 
for the smoke to go out. They build a fire in the middle of 
the house and drive two stakes into the ground on each side, 

117 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

slanting together and ci'ossing near the top. Then they lay a 
green stick on where the stakes cross and hang their kettle 
on the stick. When they want to go to bed, they lay thick mats 
on the ground around the fire. We did n't have any fire while 
I was with them, because it was hot weather and they cooked 
the lobsters and fish outside. They had wooden bowls and 
tra3^s and earthen pots, and they had some things a good deal 
better than ours, for there were all sorts of baskets. Some 
were made of long grass. They were woven together in a 
pretty pattern of black and white. They gave me one and I 
am going to send it to you. There was one basket made of 
crab shells tied together. The Indians were good to me. They 
gave me broiled fish and lobster and they put a mat down for 
me to sleep on. 

I did n't see any ship coming, but the Indians were glad to 
have me visit them and I liked to stay. One of them made me 
a bow and some arrows, and another gave me a knife made of 
a sharp shell tied to a wooden handle. They showed me how 
to paddle a canoe and how to make' a new kind of snare for 
squirrels that is ever so much better than mine. They taught 
me how to make sounds that would call the wild ducks and 
make them think there were other ducks near, so they would 
stop and you could shoot them. They wouldn't let me drink 
at a brook, but always made me go to a spring. They showed 
me how to make a fire by rubbing two sticks together, and 
how to cook clams in a hole in the ground. They dig a hole 

118 



JOHN BILLINGTON OF PLYMOUTH 

and stone up the sides like a well. Then they build a fire in 
it, and when the stones are hot they put in seaweed and 
clams, and sometimes lobsters and fish and green corn, and 
cover them up with saaweed. By and by they take them out, 
and they are cooked. The Indians can do a good many more 
things than Englishmen. If the people from Plymouth had 
not come for me, I should have learned how to do almost 
everything. I could talk with the Indians a little, too, for I 
learned ever so many of their words. They were polite to me, 
and they did n't seem to think I was a very bad boy. 

Don't you think it was a shame for the men from Plymouth 
to come and take me away ? They did. They asked Massasoit 
to find where I was, and he sent some Indians all about to find 
me. Then the men started in the boat. They came to where 
the Indians get lobsters, and Squanto asked them where I 
was. They said I was at IS^auset on Cape Cod, and that they 
would go there with them. Was n't I sorry when I saw them 
coming! It was low tide, and the shallop couldn't come an}'^- 
where near the shore. I thought maybe they would go away, 
but they did n't. I told the chief, Aspinet, that I wanted to 
stay with him. I am sure he understood; but he shook his 
head, and pointed to the men in the boat, so I had to go. He 
hung ever so many chains of beads and shells around my 
neck. I walked beside him down to the water, and all his men 
followed us. There were as many as a hundred, I am sure. 
When we came to the water, one of the Indians put me up on 

119 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

his shoulder and carried me out to the shallop. Aspinet came, 
too, and half of his men. The others stood on the shore with 
their bows and arrows. 

The men from Plymouth gave Aspinet a knife, and they 
gave another to the Indian that brought me to IS^auset, and 
they told Squanto to thank them both for taking care of me. 
I don't believe they really cared much, though, about getting 
me back, for they scolded me all the way. They had been 
caught in a big storm on the way and they did n't like it. 
Then Aspinet or some of his men had told them that the ^N^ar- 
ragansetts had taken Massasoit and meant to burn Plymouth. 
They said it would be all my fault if they did. I did n't see 
why. They said I had no business to lose myself in the woods. 
(I did n't tell them I was trying to go to Virginia.) When 
John Goodman and Peter Browne went off in the woods, the 
men said they were lost, but now they said I had lost myself. 

When we came to Plymouth, Mr. Bradford — he is Gov- 
ernor now since Governor Carver died — told me I was a 
careless, wicked boy to make them so much trouble when they 
had so much to do. He asked me why I could n't behave as 
well as Wrestling BrcAvster and Bartholomew Allerton. I 
don't suppose he ever did anything bad when he was a boy. 
Maybe people were polite to him all the time because he was 
sick. Captain Standish was with Governor Bradford ; and when 
the Governor went away he said, " John, you must never do 
such a thing again. It is a wonder that you were not killed 

120 



JOHN BILLINGTON OF PLYMOUTH 

by some wild beast. The Xarragansetts have not taken Mas- 
sasoit, but they might have done so; and if they had attacked 




A falsi: alarm 



US while ten of our men were away looking for you, we should 
all have been killed." I understood it then and I was sorry. 

121 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

I said, " Truly, Caj^tain Standish, I don't mean to do bad things. 
If I was sick as Girovernor Bradford was when he was a boy, 
I suppose I should n't. Do you think it is better to be sick and 
good or well and bad ? " He turned his head away and looked 
up into a tree at a squirrel a minute. He did n't answer what 
I asked, but he said, "John, you try to be a good boy, and 
just as soon as you are old enough you shall go with me every 
journey I make." Then he turned away, and I heard him say, 
" Poor little fellow, it is n't his fault." I don't think mother 
and father cared much whether I came back or not. Mother 
cries all the time and wishes she had n't come. Father does n't 
like it here, either. He says the Governor does not give him as 
much meal and peas as he does the rest. He thinks he would 
be a better governor than Mr. Bradford; and 'he doesn't 
believe he ought to have to mind laws that the king did not 
make. He does n't want to go back to England, though ; he 
says he is going to get even with a few people first, and then 
maybe he will go to Virginia. 

This letter is going to you by the ship Fortmie. When we 
saw it coming we thought it was a French ship, and we were 
all ready to fire at it. Some more men came on it. This is all 
I am going to write now. 



VII 



A Tliird Letter from John BilUngton to Ills Grand- 
mother in En<iland 



Plymouth, September 10, 1623. 

I'm a pretty big boy now. It is more than three years since 
yon saw me, and I have grown much more than I should 
in England, I am sure. I like Captain Standish as well as ever. 
He is the most splendid man I ever saw. He is n't any more 
afraid of the Narragan setts than I am of a codfish. You see, 
the ^arragansetts hate Massasoit, and we are his friends, so 
they hate us. They keep watch of us all the time, and when 
they found that the Fortune did not bring us any more mus- 
kets or provisions, they thought it was a good time to kill us. 
One of them came right into Plymouth one day and asked 
where Squanto was. He was away fishing. Then the Indian 
threw down a bunch of arrows tied together with a rattle- 
snake's skin and walked off. IN^obody knew what it meant; 
but when Squanto came back he said, '' Canonicus means kill. 
You make ready." The Governor and Captain Standish and 
the others filled the skin with powder and bullets and sent it ^ 
back to Canonicus. They sent him word that we did n't want 

123 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

to fight, but if lie did, we were all ready and he could begin 
when he chose. Our houses and storehouses are close together, 
and Ave have built a high paling around them with four bul- 
warks, or jetties. There are three gates, and at night these are 
kept locked, and some one is always on guard night and day. 
We have a big fort on top of the hill, too. It is made of heavy 
timber. It has a flat roof and battlementks. We go to meeting 
in the lower part; but on the roof there are four cannon, and if 
any N'arragansetts tried to come, they would have a hard time. 
I don't believe they will ever come, though, for Squanto scared 
them dreadfully. They are more afraid of the plague than 
anything else, and Squanto told them the Englishmen kept it 
buried in barrels in their storehouse and could let it out upon 
them whenever they chose. Canonicus thought it was in the 
snakeskin. He did not dare to keep it or even to open it, and 
so he sent it back. I rather think they '11 have to do whatever 
our Governor tells them. Squanto died almost a year ago and 
we were all very sorry. Before he died he asked the Governor 
to pray that he might go to the Englishman's God in heaven. 
Some of the men that came on the Fortune don't mind the 
Governor very well, but he knows how to make them. Christ- 
mas Day he called them out to work, but they didn't go. They 
said they did not think it was right to work on Christmas, it 
went against their consciences. The Governor said, " Very 
well, if it is a matter of conscience, I will spare you till you 
are better informed." When the Governor and the men who 

124 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 




i^i-i^ 



FIGHTING THE INDIANS 



had been working came in for dinner at noon, the Fortune 
men were having a great time playing stool-bar and pitching 
the bar. The Governor went right up to them and took away 
their ball and bar. " If keeping Christmas is a matter of con- 
science with you," he said, " stay in your houses and keep it; 
but it is against my conscience to have you play while others 
are working." 

I like Governor Bradford a good deal better than I used to 
when I was a small boy. He talked to me one day. He said 
that in a few years he and the other men would be old or dead, 

126 



JOHN BILLINGTON OF PLYMOUTH 

and we boys would have to take care of the colony. I never 
thought of that before. Then he said that if we did the very 
best we could, the people that would live hundreds of years 
after we were all gone would like to think of us and say over 
our names, and they would thank God that we ever lived and 
were the kind of people that we were. I never thought of that 
before, either, and I tell you, grandmother, I 'm just going to 
do my very best, I am. 

P. S. — This paper is all ragged because I tore it open 
to tell you some more. Captain Standish called me just now 
and said something too good to keep. Just think of this ! He 
said, " I 've noticed that you are coming to be a pretty manly 
sort of boy. 'Next week I am going to make a little journey to 
the Massachusetts tribe. Do you want to go with me ? " Do I 
want to ! Oh, grandmother ! 



VIII 



A Letter from Adelina Herrington, on her ivay to 
Marylcmd, to Clarice Armitage in Paris 



On Board the Ship Ark, 
February 20, 1634. 

HAVE you forgotten how you used to say when Ave were 
at school, '•'• Adehna is quiet and well-behaved, but she 
will yet do something that no one expects " ? I have done 
it. I 'm on the way to America with my father. 

Do you remember how I cried and cried when father wrote 
that he was coming to take me away from the convent and 
you ? Before that I had not thought there could be anything 
worse than being tardy to vespers and having to wear a black 
veil Sunday when all the rest of you wore white ones. The 
sisters told me that it was very wrong to feel so about going 
with my own father; but really I hardly knew him at all. I 
was so little when my mother died, and after that I had always 
been away from him, either at Aunt Alicia's or in the con- 
vent. He seemed so much like a stranger that I felt shy and 
timid when we went on board the boat to go to England ; it 
was so long since I had been anywhere without one of the 

128 



ADELINA HERRINGTON OF MARYLAND 

sisters. When we were in a quiet comer by ourselves, he said, 
"Adehna, you are very grave. Do you think you cannot be 
happy away from your school?" "I will try, my father, if 
you please," I answered; but I was so homesick that I could 
hardly keep the tears back. Then he put his arm around me 
and said, " Little daughter, did you ever think how lonely I 
have been without your mother all these years ? I could not 
let you stay away from me any longer. Every day I have 
asked the Blessed Yirgin to watch over you ; but I needed 
my own little girl. I want you for my companion, for my little 
friend. Can't you be hapj^y with me ? " Somehow everything 
seemed different all in a moment. My father had always been 
very good to me whenever I saw him, and he had sent me 
everything that I wanted ; but I did not know that he needed 
me, and I never thought how much he must have missed my 
mother. I was so sorry for him and so glad that I could help 
him, that all at once I knew I would rather be with him than 
with any one else in the world, and I said so. 

I never told this before, even to you, my Clarice; but 
we are a long way apart, and somehoAv I wanted to tell 3^ou 
to-day. 

When I said that to father he looked so pleased. He kissed 
me and said, " Now you are not a little girl in a French con- 
vent any longer; you are going to be an English girl." He 
does not treat me, however, as any English girls that I know 
are treated, but almost as if I were a boy. He talks with me, 

129 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

too, about his plans and asks what I think of them, just as if 
I knew as much as he. Aunt AHcia does not hke it. She says 
that I am fifteen years old now, that every girl ought to be 
married before she is sixteen, and that father ought to be 
choosing me a husband instead of talking with me about 
things that my husband will decide for me; but father only 
laughs and keeps right on. 

The day that I was fifteen we had a long talk about Amer- 
ica. Of course I knew a little bit about Lord Baltimore's plan, 
but he told me a great deal more. He said that our family 
had powerful friends who had protected us, but that other 
Catholics were suffering throughout the land, that they were 
put into prison and were made to j^ay such heavy fines that 
some of them Avho used to be rich were now poor. Before 
Lord Baltimore's father died, he planned to make a settlement 
in America where all who believed in Jesus Christ might 
come, and where no one should be fined or imprisoned because 
he was faithful to our Holy Mother Church. " It is probable 
that we shall not be troubled even in England," father said, 
" but there are thousands who may need a place of refuge. 
The king has given Lord Baltimore the territory that was 
promised to his father, and in about six months a company 
will sail for the Terra Mariae, the Land of Mary. What do 
you say, my little girl, shall we go with them and help make a 
place where those who are faithful shall be free ? " 

That 's the way my father talks to me, as if I knew as much 

130 




CECIL, SI'XOXl* LORD BALTlMOliE 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

as he does. He told me that Lord Baltimore must send the 
king at Windsor Castle two Indian arrows every year, and if 
any gold or silver is found in Maryland the king is to have 
one fifth of it. That is all he has to do with us; we are to be 
really an independent little country. AYe can make w^iat laws 
we choose and trade with Avhatever nation we wish. IN^o other 
colony is half so free. Father is to have miles of land, and we 
have ten servants on l3oard with us. They are to work long 
enough to pay for their passage, their food and clothes and 
tools, and then they are to be freemen. 

Of course Aunt Alicia was not pleased. She used to cry 
over me and then talk to father, and then cr}^ over me again; 
and all the time the day of sailing was coming nearer and 
nearer, and we were so busy getting ready. Did you ever 
think how many things one needs when he is going out into 
a wilderness? Of course father looked out for whatever he 
wanted to build our house, such things as glass and lead and 
bolts and nails; but he asked me to make out a list of what 
we should need inside the house. That sounds easy; but it 
kept me awake nights ; and even when I thought it was done, 
I found that I had forgotten soap and candles and towels and 
spoons and gridirons and kettles — truly, I forgot more things 
than I remembered, and if Aunt Alicia had not helped me, we 
should have fared pretty badly. Then, too, we had to buy pro- 
visions for the voyage. N^o one knew how long it would lie. 
Sometimes it is only seven weeks, but at other times it takes 

132 



ADELINA HERRINGTON OF MARYLAND 

three months. We had fine wheat flour, butter, cheese, and 
rice, of course; and you may be sure that I looked out for 
plenty of conserves and marmalade and prunes. We took some 
live poultry, and we had ham and beef and mutton besides. 
The beef was packed in vinegar; the mutton was minced and 
stewed and pressed into earthen jars; the tongue was dried. 
We had wine, claret and Canary. I thought we could not pos- 
sibly eat so much; but father said, "Seven weeks is a long 
while, and three months is longer. Moreover, hungry people 
do not make good colonists, and you will not find your Aunt 
Alicia's kitchen on the Maryland shore." 

We had to think of more than our food and clothes, for 
father meant to trade with the Indians. He has a cousin who 
was in the Virginia colony for three years, and so he knew 
what they like best. Cousin Henry said there were two kinds 
of articles that the Indians were always glad to get, some- 
thing useful and something ornamental. Father bought great 
quantities of knives and hatchets and axes, — I hope they 
won't scalp us with any of them, — and I picked out cheap 
combs and bracelets and rings by the score, and strings upon 
strings of beads of all the hues of the rainbow. We bought 
shoes and stockings and hats and linen cloth and woolen cloth 
of all colors, especially bright red. These are what we are to 
live upon, for we shall sell them to the Indians for corn. I for- 
got the perfumery. I put in quarts of it to keep away the 
plague if it should come to America. 

133 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

]^ow, Clarice, do you wonder that we were a good three 
months in getting ready to go ? And I have not told you half 
even now, for there were all the servants to look out for. 
They had to have provisions, of course, and muskets and bul- 
lets and swords and shoes and stockings and waistcoats and 
shirts and caps and gowns and aprons and cloaks; and then, 
too, there were all the tools that would be needed to work on 
the land, shovels and spades and broadaxes and Jiammers, and 
a good many things that I do not know the names of. The ser- 
vants, too, nuist have their iron kettles and frying-pans and 
gridirons and their wooden dishes and wooden spoons. Aunt 
Alicia does not think it is quite proper for me to go about 
with father to buy these things. She says no other English 
girl would dream of doing it ; but father likes it and so do I. 
Does it seem possible that only three years ago I used to ask 
Sister Margaret Mary so meekly if I might have three sous of 
my allowance to spend, if she pleased ? And now my father 
is trusting me to spend hundreds of pounds for him ! We do 
have such good times together. I 'm not lonesome, not a l^it, 
and I am not sorry we have come ; but there was one minute 
when I would have given anything to go back. That was 
when the ship first sailed and I saw the water between me 
and the wharf at Gravesend growing wider and deeper every 
moment. Of course I had been sorry all along to leave my 
friends; but when that strip of water began to widen I real- 
ized that there was something in the land itself that I did not 

184 



ADELINA HERRINGTON OF MARYLAND 

like to leave. It would have been a little easier, my Clarice, 
if I could only have seen you for one little minute. Why 




CHARLES I 



should you have been in France with your cousins when I 
wanted you so nuich ? 

135 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

Father had told me it was possible that at the last instant 
we might be hindered from sailing, for so many people were 
working against Lord Baltimore's charter. The Virginia col- 
onists are angry because we are to have land that was once 
given to them, though they never did anything with it, and 
the king took it back; then, too, they do not want a Catholic 
colony so near. Some of the people in England say that the 
king ought not to allow a " stronghold of popery " to be built 
up in America. They do not seem willing for us Catholics 
to be anywhere. There were as many Protestants as Catho- 
lics on board. Most of the Protestants go as servants, but in 
three or four years they will be freemen and help make the 
laws. There were the most absurd rumors that any one ever 
dreamed. One was that we were not going to America at all, 
but were carrying nuns to Spain, and soldiers to help Spain 
conquer England. They do not seem to think it is possible 
that a Catholic can care as much for England as a Protestant, 
but I know I do. 

Just fancy how we felt when Admiral Pennington signaled 
to us to stop. A boat was rowed up to our vessel and an 
officer came aboard. It seemed that some one had reported 
that some people on the Ark were going away without taking 
the oath of allegiance; and the officer was sent to order us all 
to return to port. Father saw the dispatch, and he said it was 
marked " Haste ! " in ten places, besides " Post-haste " and 
" All speed." We had to put back, of course. Father is always 

136 



ADELINA HERRINGTON OF MARYLAND 

hopeful, and he thought that we might only have to wait till 
they were sure that all had taken the oath ; but some of the 
people were afraid that we should not be allowed to sail at all. 
They kept us a good many days ; and even when at last they 
let us go, I did not feel sure we really were going till we were 
out of sight of land. 

That alarm was bad enough, but the storm was worse. I did 
V not know a storm could be so terrible. The wind blew furi- 
ously and the waves grew higher and higher. It went on day 
after day. The sea was fearful, but I really believe the clouds 
were worse, for they rushed together in such angry masses — 
as if all the evil spirits in the world were ready to dash down 
upon us. One day towards evening the captain saw a sunfish 
swimmmg. " That means a coming tempest," he said. I thought 
we were having a tempest then, but that was nothing to the 
hurricane that swooped down upon us a little later. First, 
there was the heaviest rain I ever saw, and then such blasts 
of wind! We had no sail set except the mainsail; but, quick 
as the sailors worked to furl it, the wind caught it, tore it 
in two, and flung half of it into the sea. The ship did not 
obey the rudder, and we drifted wherever the wind blew us. 
There are two priests on board, and they called us together to 
pray. We called upon our dear Lord, the Blessed Virgin, St. 
Ignatius, and all the angel guardians of Maryland; and we 
made so many vows of good deeds that, if they are all kept, 
our little colony ought to be a real paradise. Frightened as I 

137 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

was, I could not help remembering one sentence in Father 
White's pi-ayer. He said, " Our dear Lord, we call upon Thee 
to help us. This journe}^ over the stormy sea is not to please 
ourselves, but to glorify the blood of our Kedeemer and raise 
up a kingdom for the Saviour." I kept saying that over and 
over to myself. Even then, I was still afraid; but Father 
White's face looked as calm and happy as if we were on land 
in a sunshiny morning. " Do you l^elieve that we can be 
saved ? " some one asked him, and he replied, " I do, for com- 
fort has shone in upon my soul." He was right, for the storm 
died away. 

The tw^o priests are going to take up land and support 
themselves just like the gentlemen adventurers. Father White 
has spent years in prison just because he was a priest. He 
always fasts twice a week, and he did the same when he was 
in jail. The jailer told him that if he treated his poor old body 
so badly he would n't have strength enough to be hanged at 
Tyburn. " It is the fasting that gives me strength to bear all 
for the sake of Christ," he replied. It does seem as if with 
such a good man on board we ought to be saved from one 
storm, does n't it ? 

I forgot to say that there was one more thing that fright- 
ened us. When we were sailing beyond the Madeiras, we saw 
three ships that seemed to be signaling. Then a small boat 
went from one to another. I was more afraid of the shi^js than 
of the storm, for we thought they were Turkish pii-ates. The 

138 



ADELINA HERRTNGTON OF MARYLAND 

captain began to make ready for fighting; but the ships sailed 
away and did not trouble us. 

Surely St. Ignatius is watching over us, for all our troubles 
pass. We are not far from Maryland now, the captain says, 
and in spite of the storm we have had a short vo3^age. We 
stopped at the Barbadoes. Do you remember how we used to 
repeat " Dans la Barbade il fait tout chaud ? " It certainly is 
" tout chaud," for the people there Avear linen all winter, just 
think of that ! They have a soap tree, and a l)it of the wood 
put into water will wash clothes just as well as soap. The best 
thing they have is pineapples. They are three or four times as 
large as any that I ever saw in Europe, and they are certainly 
the most delicious fruit that any one could imagine. We 
stopped at two other islands. At one we saw a wonderful 
plant. The natives call it the Virgin Plant, because if you 
touch it ever so lightly it shrinks together and seems to be 
almost dead. It revives, though, after a while. At another 
island we met the first really wild natives we have seen. They 
came out to the ship in canoes and held up gourds and par- 
rots. They — I mean the natives — were daubed with red 
paint. The captain beckoned to them to come nearer, but the}- 
were afraid. Then he put up a white flag, but that did not 
make them feel any better. Then he held up some knives and 
little bells. Those poor savages wanted them so much that at 
last they did venture to come near enough to snatch a iew and 
leave us the gourds and parrots. Then they paddled away as 

139 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

if a hurricane was after them. The captain says many people 
believe that on this island is a strange animal called a car- 
bunca, with a stone in its forehead as fiery red as a burning 
coal. 

Father says we are too near Maryland for any more letter- 
writing, but that when we are once settled in a wigwam, a 
mud hut, a tent, a log house, or a palace, whichever it may 
chance to be, I may write whole volumes if I choose. 

Can you beheve, Clarice, that I was once a shy little con- 
vent girl who said so forlornly, " J'essaierai d'etre heureuse, 
s'il vous plait," and that now I 'm not one bit afraid to land in 
an unknown country on the other side of the world ? That is 
the kind of girl my father has made me. He is not at all like 
the other girls' fathers that I have seen. He is the best com- 
panion in the world, and sometimes I forget that he is a day 
older than I. 

Oh, Clarice, you cannot guess how I wish you were with us. 
Father does not say whether he wants to stay here always or 
only long enough to help Lord Baltimore found his colony 
and then go back to England. I asked him one day, but all he 
would say was that after a while we would talk it over, and I 
should choose. 

Good-by, dear. May the good God be with us both. I send 
3^ou a whole heartful of love. 



IX 



A Second Letter from Adelma Herrmyton of 
Maryland to Clarice Armitage in Paris 



St. Mary's in Maryland, 
May 20, 1634. 

I TOOK my pen in hand to write you a long-, long letter all 
about our first landing; but before I had written a page 
father told me that an English ship was coming up the river. 
Of course I dropped my pen and paper and hurried to the 
shore with him. Whenever I catch a ghmpse of the English 
flag on a strange vessel I can't help saying to myself, " Maybe 
Clarice is aboard; who knows ? " Perhaps it is silly to dream 
of such a thing, but I was so well rewarded for my folly this 
time that I suppose I shall keep on being foolish. 

You know what the reward was of course. First, who 
should the captain prove to be but your Uncle Harmon, who 
used to give me SAveetmeats when I was a little girl at Aunt 
Alicia's. He brought a great package of letters for the gen- 
tlemen adventurers and the othei-s, but before he even untied 
them he drew a letter from his inner pocket. I caught sight 
of the seal and I knew it was yours. " Gentlemen," he said, 

141 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

" I must first pay my duty to the little girl in France and the 
little girl in America; this letter must have the right of way." 
Then he made one of his lowest bows and presented me with 
it. That was the second reward. Then there is something else 
that I have thought and thought about. At the very end of 
your letter you wrote, " Father and mother have been talking 
about Maryland this morning. Supposing " — and there it 
stopped. In some way that special corner had become wet 
and I couldn't read the rest. I do so wonder whether it was 
" Supposing we should come to Maryland." Oh, Clarice, you 
don't know how happy I should be ! I asked Captain Harmon 
if he could guess the ending of that sentence; but he said the 
letter was sent him from the Continent, that you were all in 
Paris, and that he had not seen any of you for three months 
before he sailed. 

As I said, I began to write you about our landing and 
our first months in this beautiful Land of Mary. First, how- 
ever, we went ashore in Yirginia, at Point Comfort. Father 
and some of the others were afraid the Virginians were plot- 
ting some harm against us; and a good many of them did 
gaze at us as if they wished we were anywhere but there. 
Lord Baltimore's brother, Mr. Calvert, came with us as gov- 
ernor, and he brought letters from the King and the Lord 
High Treasurer to Sir John Harvey, the Governor of Yir- 
ginia. Sir John was very kind. Father said he promised to 
let us have cattle and hogs and corn and poultry. Then, too, 

142 



ADELINA HERRINGTON OF MARYLAND 



, they make brick in Virginia, and we are to be supplied with 
that until we can make it for ourselves. He offered something 







MAP OF MARYLAND, 1635 

else that pleased father very much, for he does like a good 
garden, and that was two or three hundred stocks all grafted 

143 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

with apples, pears, peaches, phims, and quinces. Governor 
Harvey could not have been any more kind to us if he had 
been a Catholic himself. 

But that is not about our own Terra Mariae. Really, Clarice, 
we had stopped at so many places that I began to feel almost 
homesick to come to the one place that belonged to us. I 
think the other people must have felt the same, for as soon as 
we were fairly into the Potomac River they began to name 
the different points. At the mouth of the river we have 
Capes St. Gregory and St. Michael. I hope the good saints 
were pleased that we gave their names to the very entrance 
to our Maryland, and that they will be with us and watch 
over us. 

I cannot tell you how beautiful the Potomac is. I used to 
think it was a great treat to go on the Thames, but that 
seems to me like a rivulet now that I have seen the Potomac. 
There are fine groves on both sides of bur river, and so little 
underbrush that they seem like parks. The trees are not 
crowded together, but are so far apart that the}^ really look 
almost as if they had been set out' out by gardeners. Father 
says he believes one could drive a four-horse carriage through 
these woods. 

All this while the Indians were watching ns, for some one 
had started the story that six Spanish ships were coming to 
drive all the natives out of the country. We could see their 
signal fires at night, and they told us afterwards that their 

144 




BALTIMORE ORIOLE 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

scouts had said a canoe as big as an island was coming, and 
there were as many men aboard as there were trees in the 
forest. 

After we had gone up the river quite a distance, we came 
to a charming little island, and there we landed. There Avere 
cedar trees and sassafras and nut trees, and vines and flowers 
in such masses as I never saAV in England. There were the 
most beautiful birds I ever saw. One was deep blue, one a 
blazing scarlet, and there was one very much like our Euro- 
pean oriole, only instead of being yellow and black, it was a 
deep, glowing orange and black, the colors of Lord Balti- 
more's coat of arms. We named this island for St. Clement, 
but I think it ought to have been Annunciation, for it was on 
Annunciation Day that we landed. Father White celebrated 
mass. All of the Catholics helped to build the altar. It was of 
rough stones, but we put flowers and vines around it. Maybe 
it was wrong in me, but it seemed more like a real altar than 
the one in our chapel. I thought it would be so easy for Clod 
to look down through the clear blue sky with no heavy 
roof between us. When we chanted " Glory be to Clod on 
high, and on earth peace to men of good will," I could almost 
believe that the Christmas angels were chanting it with us. 
After the mass, we all went a little to one side where a great 
tree had been roughly hewn into a cross. Father White and 
Father Altham took hold of it first, then the Governor and 
the Commissioners and the chief men among the adventurers. 

146 



ADELINA HERRINGTON OF MARYLAND 



They lifted it upon their shoulders and walked slowly to the 
place that had been made ready for it. It was set up, and 
we knelt around it and recited the Litany of the Sacred Cross. 
Then Governor Calvert stood beside it and said, " I hereby 
take possession of Terra jNIari^e for our Blessed Saviour and 
for our sovereign Lord, the King of England." We knelt 
again, and Father White said a prayer for God's Holy Church 




ST. ( LK.MKNT'S ISLAM) 



and the one we used to say at school every night, " Yisit, we 
beseech Thee, O Lord, this habitation, and repel from it all 
snares of the enemy. Let Thy holy angels dwell therein to 
preserve us in peace, and may Thy blessing be upon us foi'- 
ever, through Christ our Lord." I never realized before how 
beautiful it is that you in grand old Xotre Dame, — if you are 

147 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

still in Paris, — the little girls in the convent chapel, and we, 
here on this little island, where perhaps no white people have 
ever set foot before, should all say the same prayers and even 
use the very same words. 

I wish we could have made our settlement on St. Clement's 
Island, but it was not nearly large enough. We stayed there, 
however, while the Governor went farther up the river to 
meet the Indians. Father Altham went with him, and my 
father, too. I know father wanted to take me, and if I had 
only been a boy he would certainly have slipjjed me in some- 
where. He told me every little thing that had happened, how- 
ever, after they came home, so I almost feel as if I had gone. 

Finding the Indians was not so easy as we had expected, 
for they had been so alarmed by that story of the Spanish 
ships that many of them had run away. The Governor kept 
on till he came to Potomac Town, and there they saw a real 
king, a boy of ten or twelve years. Father said he was a dear 
little bright-eyed fellow, straight as an arrow, and not one bit 
afraid of the Spaniards or any one else. His uncle, Archihau, 
will rule the tribe for him till he is older. Archihau was grave 
and dignified and ready to listen to whatever they said. Father 
Altham told him that we were not Spaniards, and that we 
had not come to make war, but in pure good will. "We wish 
to tell you about our God," Father Altham went on, " and to 
teach you the way to heaven. We believe in one God and 
worship Him alone." " Do you not make gifts to the Okee? " 

148 



ADELINA HERRINGTON OF MARYLAND 

the chief asked. "Xo," Father Altham rephed; for Okee is 
their word for evil spirit. " Then does not the Okee harm 
you ? " " iSTo ; for our God is stronger than any evil spirits, 
and will not allow them to hurt us." " That is well," said the 
chief thoughtfully; "but you worship corn and fire, do you 
not? " " Why should we ? " asked Father Altham, " when they 
are only the work of our God ? " '' That is true," the chief 
said. " I will think of that." 

When our people were ready to go away, they said they 
would come again soon. " That is just what I want," declared 
Archihau. " AVe will eat at the same table, my followers shall 
go to the hunt for you as well as for us, and what is mine 
shall be as yours." 

That was our first reception at an American court; but the 
Governor had learned in Yirginia that there were not only 
kings but an emperor in our Maryland, and that if we could 
make friends with him there would be no trouble with the 
lesser chiefs. This emperor and his people did not mean to be 
taken unawares by the Spaniards ; so when our boat came up, 
there they stood on the shore, five hundred or more, all armed 
with bows and arrows. Mr. Henry Fleet of Yirginia went with 
our people as interpreter, and he made it clear to the Indians 
that we had not come for war, but for peace. He invited them 
to come aboard. The others were afraid, but the emperor 
came. He was taken to the cabin to be entertained; and then 
his followers were indeed frightened, for they seemed to think 

149 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

that some trick had been played upon him. Mr. Fleet had to 
bring him up on the deck where they could see him before 
they would be satisfied. He told the Governor he was glad we 
had come, and we might dwell wherever we chose in his 
kingdom. 

]Now while the Governor was having such a fine time at the 
courts of kings and emperors, we were having visitors at our 
court. AVe had sentinels on guard all the time, of course, and 
the Indians began to come up rather timidly and ask them 
questions. They cannot understand how we made our ship, 
for they think it was hollowed out of a log like a canoe, and 
they ask, " Where in the world did a tree groAv large enough 
to make such a huge canoe ? " They are queer-looking crea- 
tures, or would be if we met them in London; but here in 
Maryland we expect everything to be strange, and so we are 
not surprised at anything. They wear a sort of apron and 
cloak of deerskin. So much for clothes. The rest of their 
dress is ornaments. ]Most of them have chains of beads around 
their necks, and a copper pendant, a fish or something else, 
dangling down over their' foreheads. Their hair is long and as 
black as jet. They make it into a big knot over the left ear. 
All that is nothing to the gorgeousness of their faces, for 
those are painted red and blue, with lines drawn from the 
corners of their mouth to their ears to represent a beard. 

But these Indians were only friendly visitors, and there was 
yet another sovereign to be seen before we could begin our 

160 



ADELINA HERRINGTON OF MARYLAND 



St. Mary's, the chief of the Yaocomicoes, who owns the land 
on which w^e want to settle. He was the most gracious of all 
the chiefs. It seems that a pow^erf ul tribe, the Susqnehannoes, 
had been ravaging his land, and he was glad enough to have 
some white men with their "loud-talking bow-strings " come 
to be his friends. " I will give you land for your town and 
your fields," he said; and it was a generous gift, for much 



■UK 7i w^ 




INDIAN WIGWA.AI 



of it had been already cleared. Of course he expected a 
jiresent in return, and the Governor gave him ever so many 
hatchets and axes and hoes and cloaks and hats; and now the 
Indians seem to feel as if they could not do enough for us. 
They are constantly bringing us partridges or turkeys or deer 
as gifts. It does not seem as if we should starve, for besides 
all that they bring, we have acres and acres of Indian corn 
planted, and it is up knee-high already. We have peas and 

151 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

beans and potatoes and sugarcane all doing well, besides the 
grafted stocks from Virginia. There are so many wild grape- 
vines, already loaded with tiny green grapes, that maybe some 
day Maryland wine wall be counted as good as that of Spain. 

The Indians gave us their cabins, or wigwams, and the 
largest one, the home of the chief, has been dedicated as a 
church. I wish you could have been with us then. We all 
knelt about the little hut. The Indians understood that we 
were praying, and they stood behind us, perfectly quiet but 
watching everything. Even the Protestants stopped all their 
work. It was so still that we could hear the Avind bloAving 
through the pines, the rippling of the river, and now and then 
the song of a bird in the forest. Father White took his place 
outside the little low door and stood with his head bowed. He 
prayed to God to bless what he was about to do; then he 
walked slowly around the cabin, sprinkling its walls with holy 
water, and saying, " Sprinkle me, O Lord, with hyssop, and I 
shall be cleansed." When he came to the door again, he 
prayed that God would visit the place. "Thou dost deign to 
have a dwelling-place on earth," he said in his prayer; and 
somehow that meant more here than anywhere else. We were 
all planning homes for ourselves, and to stop and make a 
home where God himself might dwell made it seem more than 
ever as if He was among us and was l)lessing our Maryland. 
When all who are faithful to our Holy Church had passed 
through the door, the Litany of the Saints was said, the inside 

152 




INDIAN IMPLEMENTS 

153 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

walls were sprinkled with holy water, and the sacrifice of the 
mass was offered up. When we came out I felt as if I had 
been in the very Holy of Holies. Father says that some day 
there will be handsome churches built in our St. Mary's; but 
even if they were here now, I should still love the little cabin 
church best. 

Father and I are li-ving in an Lidian cabin until our house 
is done; and you would never imagine what a fine housewife 
I have become. But what would Aunt Ahcia say ! A long 
letter from her came in the same ship with yours. She begs 
me to try to persuade father to come back to England. One 
sheet is filled with a description of a dress that Lady Beatrice 
Beauchamp wore. The bodice was yellow satin. The petti- 
coat was of gold tissue, and the robe over it was of red velvet 
lined with yellow muslin with broad stripes of gold. The 
apron was of point lace, and the collar of white satin with a 
richly embroidered ruff. " Only persuade your father to come 
home," she writes, " and you shall have a dress just like it, or 
as much handsomer as we can find." I am almost sure that 
father would go home if he believed that I was unhappy here ; 
but I 'm not. I love England and I love Aunt Alicia, but 
somehow I want to stay a while and see how our little St. 
Mary's gets on. 

There, Clarice, I have written these many, many pages just 
as fast as I could scrilible, and I have tried hard to think of 
nothing but Indians and beads and bows and arrows and new 

154 



ADELINA HERRINGTON OF MARYLAND . 

settlements; for that '" supposing" of yours sets my heart all 
a-quiver when I let myself think about it. This letter will go 
by the Ark to-morrow. I cannot help fancying how delightful 
it would be if the Ark should pass another vessel down in the 
bay, and if on that vessel should be you, my Clarice, and your 
father and mother. All this I have dreamed over and over 
again because of that little " supposing." May it come true. 
Governor Calvert said one day that the only thing wanting 
to make the plantation perfect was a greater number of our 
countrymen to enjoy it. I should be satisfied Avith one, and 
that a countrywoman. 



X 



A Letter from Harry Maxon of JVaumkeag 
(Salem), in Massachusetts, to his Aunt Eleanor 
in England 



Naumkeag, July 2, 1629. 

SO many things have happened that I don't really know 
whether I am Harry Maxon or only another boy who 
wears my clothes. I never thought of such a thing as coming 
to Massachusetts, but here I am. 

It seems a hundred years since that last day in Leicester. 
That was when Mr. Higginson went away. He used to be 
the minister of one of our parish churches, but he would n't 
conform, and so he could n't haA'e his own church any more. 
The other ministers used to let him preach in theirs some- 
times. I liked to hear him because he talked as if he meant 
what he said. Everybody was sorry when he went away. I 
think of it after I have gone to bed. He and his wife and the 
children were in a big wagon ready to go to London. We all 
stood along the road on both sides. The men waved their 
caps and the women their aprons, and they cried " Good-by ! 
Good-by ! " Mr. Higginson stood up in the wagon and 

156 



HARRY MAXON OF SALEM 

turned toward us, and said, " Good-by ! The Lord be with 
you ! May His blessing come upon you ! " I stood close to 
the wheel, and he said to me, " Be a good boy, Harry, and 
serve the Lord. I shall pray for you as if you were one of 
my own children, but I shall probably never see you again 
in this world." 

He did see me, though, and on the very next day; for this 
was my last day in Leicester, too, although I did not know 
it then. That night, when I was going to bed, Cousin Plilton 
sent for me. I hurried down, and Mr. Hopetoun was with him. 
He said, " So this is Harry. Will you go to Massachusetts 
with me, Harry?" "Of course he will," Cousin Hilton said, 
with that kind of growl in his voice that always frightened 
me. " What 's the need of asking him ? " Mr. Hopetoun did 
not answer, but said to me, " Your father was a true friend to 
me when most I needed a friend, and I shall be glad to do all 
that I can for his son. Until three days ago I supposed that 
he had left you a fortune; but I have enough for us both. 
Will you go with me ? " Of course I said yes, for I thought it 
would seem so good not to have to stay at Cousin Hilton's. 
Then, too, Mr. Hopetoun had such a good face and his voice 
was so kind that I would have gone with him anywhere. 

We had to start the next morning before light. We went 
to London, then to Gravesend, and then on board the Talipot. 
I hardly saw Mr. Hopetoun, even when we were on the ship, 
he had so many things to attend to. It was only a few days 

157 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

before he was taken sick, and in a week he died. It was so 
lonesome. Still, I did n't want to go back to Consin Hilton's, 
for I knew he did n't want me ; but the wind had been wrong, 
and we were only just off Yarmouth, and I was afraid they 
would send me. Then Mr. Higginson and Mr. Brown told me 
that the first day Mr. Hopetoun was sick he had made a will 
and given to me what he had on board and what he had 




A SHIP LIKE THE TALBOT 



invested in the Company. Mr. Brown is a lawyer, and he had 
written the will. He said that the money invested in the Com- 
pany would be worth a good deal more in three or four years, 
because they would trade in beaver skins, and there was no 
better way to get rich. " There is something else," Mr. Brown 

158 



HARRY MAXON OF SALEM 

said. " Mr. Hopetonn has on board everything that he ex- 
pected to need for several years : leather, cloth, tools, glass, 
farm implements, and household goods, besides a considerable 
amount of money. These are yours now, and if you stay in 
the colony you will also be entitled to a large amount of land. 
The captain says that you can be put ashore and sent back to 
your cousin, if you choose. AYhich shall it be?" I could choose 
Avithout thinking at all, for I could not bear to go back to 
Cousin Hilton's ; and I knew you could n't have me, — why 
is it that so many nice people have n't much money? — and I 
said I 'd rather go to Massachusetts. Mr. Higginson looked 
pleased, and said he was very glad. So that 's the way I came 
to be here. 

The people were good to me on the ship. They all knew 
Mr. Hopetoun, and some of them used to know m}'- father. 
Ever so many have said to me, "So you are John Maxon's 
son? He was very kind to me many years ago." It 's good to 
have a father who was kind to people, is n't it ? Mr. Hope- 
toun had said that he wanted Mr. Higginson and Governor 
Endicott to be my guardians, because I am only twelve years 
old. I like Mr. Higginson, and I did so hope I should like 
Governor Endicott. 

I never knew there was so much to see on the ocean be- 
sides just water. We saw porpoises rolHng over and acting 
as if they were playing some game. There were grampus 
fishes, too. Their bodies were as big as those of oxen, and 

159 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

they were two or three yards long'. We saw some whales 
puffing up w^ater only a little way from us. They were so big 
that their backs looked like little black islands. 

It w^as Sunday when we saw the grampus fishes. Mr. Hig- 
ginson and Mr. Brown were looking at them, too. Mr. Higgin- 
son said, '' Those that love their own chimney-corner and dare 
not go far beyond their own town's end shall never have 
the honor to see these wonderful works of Almighty God." 
"True," said Mr. Brown; "but the thoughts of home are 
always welcome. This is just about the time when they are 
chanting in the church, ' O ye whales, and all that move in the 
waters, bless ye the Lord; praise Him, and magnify Him for 
ever.'" Mr. Higginson said, " Yes; but we have left behind 
us the man-made forms; we seek to worship our God, not 
with chants and idle ceremonies, but in spirit and in truth." 
" So say the Separatists of New Plymouth," said Mr. Brown. 
" AVe are no Separatists," declared Mr. Higginson. " We love 
the Church of God in England; though w^e can but separate 
from its corruptions. But this discussion is not for the ears 
of children ; " and then he sent me away. I don't know exactly 
what he meant, do you? I don't see why it is wicked to chant 
that verse. 

I used to pla}^ with Mr. Higginson's children on the ship, 
and Mr. Goffe had a beautiful big dog that played with us. 
He fell overboard and was drowned. N^ero was such a good 
dog, and when I talked to him he would put his head on one 

160 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

side and cock up his ears as if he understood every word. 
One of the sailors died of the smallpox, and Mr. Hampden 
said I ought to be more sorry for that than for the death of 
a dumb animal; but I don't see why. The sailor was bad and 
Nero was good; and it wasn't Nero's fault that he couldn't 
talk. He barked well, anyhow. 

We had one storm, and the waves washed over the deck so 
that holes had to be cut into the small boats to let the water 
out. One day it was foggy, and we could not see the Lion's 
AVhelp — that 's one of the ships that started when we did. 
The sailors beat a drum and fired a great piece of ordnance, 
but there was n't any answer, and we did not see the other boat 
again for a week. We saw a big iceberg; but the best of all 
was when we saw the land. Four of the men rowed ashore to a 
little island, and brought us back strawberries and gooseber- 
ries and the sweetest pink roses I ever smelled. This Avas 
near Cape Ann. Governor Endicott had seen our flag, and he 
sent two men in a shallop to pilot us into Naumkeag. 

I don't believe the captain could ever have found his w^ay 
in without the pilots, it is such a queer, tAvisted sort of pas- 
sage ; but when you are once in it is a splendid harbor. Gov- 
ernor Endicott came aboard in the morning. He wears a 
sword, and he looks as if he would not be afraid to use it. 
Mr. Higginson told him about me, and asked if he would help 
be guardian. " That I will," he said, " and right heartily. Our 
house is hardly as commodious as the Lord Mayor's palace in 

162 



HARRY MAXON OF SALEM 

London, but it would be hard if Mistress Endicott could not 
find room for John Maxon's boy." So he took me with Mr. 
and Mistress Higginson to his own house. It is a pretty good 
one, because he is the governor. There are ten or twelve 
other houses here, but they are only little huts. Two or three 
of them have mud walls and thatched roofs. Our people are 
putting up tents and a sort of booths of branches woven 
together. 

Mistress Endicott asked me just now what I was doing. 
When I told her I was writing a long letter to you, she said, 
" That 's a good nephew. I knew your aunt well when I was 
a young girl. Give her my best remembrances, and tell how 
gladly we would welcome her among us." So would I, Aunt 
Eleanor. You see, every one is very kind, much kinder than 
Cousin Hilton; but no one really belongs to me. It would be 
so good if you were here. 



A Second Letter from Harry Maxon to his Aunt 

in England 



Salem, January 13, 1636. 

IT does not seem as if I had been here almost seven years, 
does it? I am pretty well grown np now, a great fellow 
of nineteen, taller than Mr. Higginson was, and ever so much 
broader. Everybody is sorry that he is dead. The colony is 
takino- care of his wife and the children. John and Francis 
are going to be ministers. We used to play together on the 
ship \yhen we came out from England. 

What a child I was in those days! I thought it was the 
greatest thing in the world that I could have a bow and 
arrows; and when I had a canoe of my own I felt like a man. 
The men used to let me go out with them when they went to 
draw the nets, because I was strong and could help, and yet 
did not weigh as much as a man. The nets almost always took 
more fish than the boats could bring in; and they do now. 
Yesterday we caught sixteen hundred bass. There are so 
many bass that I really believe at the turn of the tide any one 
could walk on their backs dryshod. And as for lobsters, what 

164 



HARRY MAXON OF SALEM 

do you think of one weighing twenty-five pounds? There are 
haddock and herring and mackerel, and a good many other 
kinds that we know only the Indian names for. We are be- 
ginning to cure codfish and send them to England. Maybe 




GOVERNOR JOHN WINTHROP 



vessels from Salem will yet be known all over the world. 1 
am a real merchant already. Aunt Eleanor. Two years ago 
Governor Endicott took one hundred pounds of the money 
that ]\[r. Hopetoun left me and had five servants sent over. 
They were to work till they had paid their passage-money 

165 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

and the cost of their outfit, then they were to be free. One 
thing they did was to plant Indian corn, — of course I worked 
too, — and I never saw anything grow as corn does here. 
We did not have to clear the ground, the Indians had done 
that; I mean those that died of the plague before we came. 
All we had to do was to plough and plant. It w as so hard to 
get corn that year that we planted only one bushel; but the 
harvest w^as more than one hundred bushels, and I shall have 
a great deal more this year. I have a share in the fisheries, 
too. Maybe I shall be a rich man some day. Will you come 
and live with me then, Aunt Eleanor? 

We do a good deal more than to plant corn, for we have a 
brick kiln, and besides that we make boards and clapboards 
and shingles and staves to send to England. We are begin- 
ning to raise wheat and rye, and we think all the English 
grains w^ill grow here. 

It was n't easy all the time, even for a big, strong fellow 
like me. That first winter there was not a great deal to eat; 
and if Governor AVinthrop had not come with provisions when 
he did, we should have had to live on fish and acorns. The 
second winter, too, we almost starved. You see. Governor 
Wlnthrop thought he had a whole shipful of provisions com- 
ing, but the people in England did not send them; so we had 
to eat acorns and roots and groundnuts and mussels. At Gov- 
ernor Winthrop's house the last batch of bi-ead was in the 
oven when Captain Pierce came from England with a shipload 

166 



HARRY MAXON OF SALEM 

of food. The Governor had ajDpointed a fast day, but he turned 
it into a thanksgiving. 




THE STARVING TIME 



I forgot to say that before Governor AVinthrop came the 
Company decided that some of them would come here to live 

167 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

and they would bring the charter with them. We are not gov- 
erned by a Company at home any longer; we are like a little 
kingdom all by itself. Governor Winthrop lives in Boston. 
He did not seem to want to live in Salem. I don't see why. 
I think it is a much better place. I forgot to say that it is 
" Salem " now, and not " ^Naumkeag." Mr. Higginson gave it 
that name when we first landed; and every one likes it be- 
cause it means "peace." 

Almost everything does go peacefully. There was a man 
named Morton who made some trouble at first. He was a bad 
man, and a good many bad people stayed with him. He used 
to sell guns and poAvder to the Indians. Of course we are not 
afraid of the Indians, and we are just as good to them as can 
be. We would pay them for every bit of land, only the tribe 
that used to live here are all dead and there is no one to pay. 
We do not dare to let them have guns, however. You see, w^e 
are so few, and they are so many, that if they got angry with 
us for anything they could kill us all in a twinkling. Another 
bad thing Morton did was to take in any servants that did not 
want to work to pay for their passage. All they had to do was 
to go to Merry Mount, as he called the place. Well, Ave met 
together, — I mean the men did, for I Avas only a little boy 
then, — and asked the people down in Plymouth to go Avith us 
and show Morton hoAv much harm he was doing, and tell him 
he Avas breaking the king's proclamation not to sell guns to 
the Indians. He said he did not care; a proclamation Avas not 

168 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

a law ; the king was dead and his displeasure had died with 
him. Then Captain Standish went with eight or nine men to 
arrest him. The Captain has been an officer in the king's 
army, and fought in Flanders, and he knoAvs how to fight. 
Morton barred his door, and he and his friends loaded their 
guns and said they would not yield. He was afraid his house 
would be burned or torn down, however, and at last he came 
out with his musket as if he meant to shoot us — I mean the 
men. Captain Standish struck up the musket and caught it 
away from him, and marched straight into the house and drove 
away all the bad people and took Morton to Plymouth. Then 
they sent him to England, that is, after a ship was found that 
was willing to carry him. 

We have n't had any other trouble here except about the 
church. As soon as we came, Governor Endicott, Mr. Skel- 
ton, Mr. Higginson, and the other chief men met together 
to talk about forming a church. We had a day of prayer 
and fasting — you know I was a little boy, and I remember 
I was dreadfully hungry. They chose Mr. Skelton pastor and 
Mr. Higginson teacher. We asked the Plymouth people to 
come; but the wind was wrong, and they had to beat about 
in the Bay till it was almost over. 

The first trouble came because in our church we don't read 
the service, as we did at home. Mr. Browne — he was the 
lawyer who made Mr. HojDetoun's will — and his brother did 
not like this. They would not come to our meeting to hear 

170 



HARRY MAXON OF SALEM 

Mr. Higginson jDreach; they and some others used to meet 
together and read the service from the jDrayer-book. Gov- 
ernor Endicott told them they must not do that. " We have 
suffered much," he said, " because we would not use the forms 
and ceremonies; and now that we are come where we may 
have our liberty, we will not permit them to be established in 
our colony." " Then you are nothing but Separatists," said 
the Brownes. " Xo ; we are not Separatists," Governor Endi- 
cott declared; "we do not Avish to leave the church as the 
people of Plymouth have done, but we do wish to purify it of 
the corruptions that have crept into it through the evil that is 
in the hearts of men." The Brownes would not yield, and they 
kept talking so much against our church and the magistrates 
that the Governor told them they were arousing strife in the 
colony, and he sent them back to England. 

The last trouble we are not out of yet. Of course, if it is 
wrong to use the cross in church, it ought not to be used any- 
where. Mr. Roger Williams preached about it in a sermon. 
He said it was nothing but popery and wicked folly to use it. 
The next day was training day, and when Governor Endicott 
came out to take command, a breeze blew the flag out in front 
of him with the great red cross right before his eyes. He 
stopped as if some one had struck him. Then he pointed his 
finger at it and cried, " Thou idolatrous sign, thou comest not 
from the truth, but from the wicked ceremonies which we 
have put far behind us. Thou relic of popery, never again 

171 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

shalt thou flaunt thyself in the eyes of those who follow the 
Lord and worship Him in truth and simplicity. In the God of 
battles Ave trust, and in the God-given strength of our own 
right arms, not in thee, thou foolish emblem of superstition. 
Vanish from the standard of the Lord's chosen people." He 
drew his sword and slashed out the cross. "We all stood as if 
we were made of stone and gazed at the ragged hole. The 
Governor strode out of the gate. " Form in line ! " he cried, 
and went on with the drill as if nothing had happened. 

Was n't there talk about it afterwards, though ! Some were 
frightened and declared it was treason to cut the king's flag, 
and that the Governor would surely be hanged. Most of the 
militia thought it was right, and a good man}^ said they would 
never again march under a flag with a cross on it. The Gen- 
eral Court decided that the cross must be used on the boats 
in the harbor and on Castle Island, but that the militia might 
train under a flag without it. 

A good many blamed Mr. AVilliams for his sermon.. He 
came here about two years after I did. When Mr. Higginson 
and Mr. Skelton died we asked him to be our minister. After 
a while he went to Plymouth and then he came back here. 
He said some things in his sermons that some of the people 
did not like very well. One thing was that the land here be- 
longed to the Indians, not to the king, and that the king 
could not give it away. I sup])ose King Charles would take 
back our charter pretty quick if he should hear of that. An- 

172 



HARRY MAXON OF SALEM 



other thing he said was that every man had a right to beheve ex- 
actly what he thought was true, and no magistrate should punish 
him unless he committed a crime. He said, too, that no one ouglit 
to have to pay to support a church that he did not believe in. Just 
think how it would seem 
to have half of the people 
go off to one church and 
half to another when the 
drum beats Sunday morn- 
ing! Think of having 
men vote who are not 
members of the church. 
They might vote to do all 
sorts of things that we 
should not like. Every- 
body that knows Mr. 
AVilliams likes him; but 
we — I mean the magis- 
trates — don't dare to let 
him stay here ; and so the 
Court ordered him to 
leave the colony before 
spring. They hoped he 
would go back to England; but pretty soon they heard that he 
was preaching to people in his house and planning to go with 
them to found a colony somewhere. Then they determined to 

173 



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V • -7- 






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-^'^ 


^^^ 


""^'^ 


^^gv.*- 


■^^— ^^ 






W0m.^i 




^^^Ihi^^^^^^Hb ^^^^^^BB 



HK SLASHED Ol'T THE CROSS 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

send him to England right away; but when the officers came for 
him he was not there, and no one knows where he has gone. I 
hke Mr. WiUiams ; but of course he could not stay here and teach 
what the magistrates did not believe was true. 

I am glad the}^ are not sending me back to England. I want to 
stay here. I want to buy and sell furs, to raise grain and hay, and 
make shingles and clapl)oards and barrel hoops, and send them to 
England in my own ships. We have built a vessel of one hundred 
tons' burden already, and we shall soon build some a good deal 
bigger. I want to have fishing-boats, too, of my own. Three men 
can easily catch three hogsheads of mackerel in a Aveek, and that 
would sell in England for thirty-six pounds. And as for the cod- 
fish, they are thicker than the mosquitoes, and that is saying a 
good deal. 

What should I have done if good Mr. Hopetoun had not brought 
me here ! Supposing I was still at Cousin Hilton's ! It would kill 
me to stay there a week now. I did not think so much about it 
when I first came, — about Mr. Hopetoun, I mean, — for I hardly 
knew him at all ; but I see now how good he was and how much 
he did for me. There 's one thing I am going to do in memory of 
him, and that is to find some poor boys that nobody wants and 
help them come over here. I '11 get them food and clothes and pav 
their passage. Then I '11 give them some land and help them to 
take care of themselves. Maybe we can found a colony a little 
way off and call it Hopetoun. Don't you think that Avould be 
l)etter than putting up a big monument for him? 

174 



XII 



A Letter written by Thomas An f/eU of Providence 
to his Uncle in England 



Providence, 
September 24, 1636. 

I HOPE you won't be angry with me because I have come 
to Providence with Mr. Roger AVilHams. I wrote you 
all about his being sent away from Salem because he said a 
man had a right to believe as he chose, and the magistrates 
ought not to punish him unless he committed some crime. I 
think so, too. I used to go to the meetings at Mr. Williams's 
house. M}^ master went, and his wife. After Mr. Williams 
went away no one dared to talk about him much for fear of 
being banished. One morning Mr. Waterman came to me and 
said, " I have something to tell you." He looked all around, 
and then he went on. " Thomas," he said, " you are a good, 
faithful lad, and I am sure that I can trust you. You have often 
been at the meetings at Mr. Williams's house, and I think 
you understand his words. I have private information that 
he has gone to the country of the Xarragansetts, because that 
is not under the rule of either the ]Massachusetts colonies or 

175 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

Plymouth. After some few mouths I and my family intend 
to go to him and settle wherever he may have found a resting- 
place; but I must wait till I can collect the money due me 
here. Then, too, the ship that we expect from England in three 
or four months will bring payment for the shingles and laths 
that I sent out last year, and I must wait for that." 

" But Mr. Williams told us that if he was driven from Massa- 
chusetts he should spend his life teaching the Indians," I said. 

" True," replied Mr. Waterman; " but he must have a home 
for his wife and children. The Indians will give him land, and 
those who are like-minded with him will go to live near him. 
In two weeks one man from here and two from Dorchester 
are going to the Karragansett country. If you wish, you are 
free from the time of service that is due me, and you may go 
with them. I am loath to spare you; but you are a brave, 
helpful lad, you love Mr. Williams, and you will be an aid 
and a comfort to him if you decide to go." That is why I am in 
Providence, Uncle Howard. I have a house-lot and six acres 
of land. What do you think of that for a boy of sixteen ? 

It was not easy getting here, for every little creek was 
swollen to a river. Sometimes we could wade across and some- 
times we had to swim. At last we came to Mr. Blackstone's 
river, — he is a friend of Mr. Williams, — and then we floated 
down. When we came to where the river widens, — Seekonk, 
the Indians call it, — we saw a cornfield where the corn was a 
little way up. Not far from the shore was a sort of wigwam. 

176 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 



It was made of poles bound together at the top. Strong cords 
of twisted basswood were fastened to the poles and then to 
stakes driven into the ground in a circle. It was not covered 
with mats or skins, such as the Indians generally use, but 
with pieces of bark. It was made like a wigwam, but some- 
how it did not look just like Indian work, and Mr. Harris 
cried out, " I believe we have found him." We ran the canoe 
ashore at a place where it looked as if canoes had been drawn 
up before and landed. There was a spring of good water, and 
around it were footprints that were not made by moccasins 
but by English shoes. Then we were certain that this was 
Mr. Williams's house. No one was there, but we thought that 

he would be back before long. We 
had brought parched meal with us, 
and a spoonful apiece of that with 
some water from the spring made us 
a good dinner. Then we looked about 
to see what we could do. We mended 
the wigwam where the bark was not 
fastened on very well. We found two 
Indian hoes — they 're made of big 
clam shells fastened to sticks — and 
hoed up what few weeds there were 
in the field of corn; but we might 
have saved ourselves the trouble if we had only known what 
had happened. Late in the afternoon Mr. WilHams came up 

178 




INDIAN HOE 



THOMAS ANGELL OF PROVIDENCE 

the river. He had been to visit Massasoit. I gave him the 
money that Mr. Waterman had sent him, and he asked about 
all his friends in Salem and in Boston. "I do from my soul 
honor and love them," he said, " even now that their judgment 
has led them to afflict me." 

We told him Avhy we had come; that we wanted to make a 
settlement with him where men could be free to think as they 
would. 

" A shelter for persons distressed for conscience," he said. 
For a while he seemed to be thinking. Then he went on. 
" That would be a noble work," he declared, " and I rejoice in 
the affection for me that your coming shows; and yet I can 
but counsel you to return." 

" But we cannot," said Mr. Harris. " I have closed up my 
affairs in Salem. Our friend here, Mr. Smith, is banished from 
Dorchester; and as for these two youths, they are ready to 
cast their lot with what they believe is the truth." 

" If you had come yesterday," Mr. Williams replied, " I 
might have bidden you stay; but this very morning a mes- 
senger brought me a letter — we knew afterwards it was from 
Mr. Winslow of Plymouth — which tells me in kind and loving 
fashion that this side of the river is claimed by Plymouth, and 
that if I remain here my good friends in that colony will fall 
into trouble Avith the sister colonies of Massachusetts. I can no 
longer offer you even the hospitality of the shore or the spring 
or the shelter of the pine trees. I counsel you to leave me to 

179 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

spend my life, as I long ago planned, in teaching the Indians 
the way of truth." 

We talked till late into the night; and at last he was per- 
suaded that he could teach the Indians just as well if he did 
have a home in a settlement. Then he put into his canoe the 
cords of the wigwam and what little corn there was, together 
with a bundle of knives and beads and other things that the 
Indians hke, and we set out to find a place for a home. 

" Pity we could n't have taken the cornfield," said Mr. 
Smith. 

"Yes; for it is too late to plant again this season," Mr. 
Harris said. 

Mr. Williams did not seem at all troubled, as he had been 
the night before. " This is nothing," he declared. " We are 
floating down a beautiful river in a sunny morning in June. 
We have food and companionship. This is very different from 
my journey of last winter. I was alone. It was bitterly cold; I 
can feel the chill to-day, even in the warm sunshine. For four- 
teen weeks I had neither bed nor bread. Sometimes I slept in 
a hollow tree, and broke my fast with buds from the frozen 
branches. I heard the cry of panthers. Often wolves howled 
around me. Many a time I should have sunk down and given 
myself u^) to perish if it had not been for the help of the 
Indians. I know their language. When I dwelt at Plymouth 
I often made them gifts and visited them in their wigwams, 
that I might learn to know them and prepare to become their 

180 







KOOER WILLIAMS I'LUSl AUIi\<i THE INDIANS 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

teacher some day ; and they did not. forget. If I came upon a 
group of wigwams, I had only to say, ' Wunnancattup. As- 
samme,' — I am hungry. Give me food, — and whatever they 




INDIAN WIGWAMS 



had was freely shared with me. My old friend Massasoit wel- 
comed me, and gave me the land from which we have departed. 
Truly, these ravens fed me in the wilderness, and if I — " 

"What cheer, netop [friend], what cheer?" rang out from 
the shore on the right, where stood three Indians on a great 
rock, waving their arms and beckoning to us. 

" We will come ashore over there and meet you," Mr. Wil- 
liams said in Indian; and we paddled on as fast as we could 

182 



THOMAS ANGELL OF PROVIDENCE 

around the point and along the farther side of the neck of 
land, up the Moshassuck River. 

When we landed, Mr. Williams had a long talk with them. 
He told lis afterwards that they said Canonicus and his nephew 
Miantonomah ruled this land, and they would permit no Eng- 
lish to live on it. " I knew them of old," he said. " We were 
friends when I dwelt in Plymouth. An Indian does not forget 




A BIRCH CANOE 



a kindness. Do the best you can for yourselves, and I will go 
to see them." The Indians went away, and he set off in his 
canoe. We went to work to put up a wigwam. 

It was three days before he came back, but when he did 
come we had a feast ready for him. We had boiled Indian 
meal ; then with a little wheat flour that we had brought from 
Salem we had made a sauce and seasoned it with the berries 
and tender leaves of the checkerberry. AYe had picked straw- 

183 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

berries and mixed them with meal to make bread. We had 
caught fish, and we had dug clams and cooked them as the 
Indians taught us; that is, we made a hole in the ground, 
lined it with stones, and built a fire in it. When the stones 
were very hot, we put in the clams with seaweed under and 
over them. And when they were done, there 's nothing in 
England that is half as good. We had a newcomer to present 
to him, Mr. Joshua Yerin. He, too, wanted to join the colony. 

Mr. Williams brought us good news. Canonicus was willing 
we should stay. At first, he would hardly look at Mr. Wil- 
liams, for, as he said, the English had sent the plague among 
his people. Mr. Williams told him that could not be, and made 
him some presents, and after a while he was as friendly as 
ever. 

" Come and live with us," he said, " and whatever we have 
shall be shared with you." 

" But I have a w^ife and tw o little children," Mr. Williams 
explained. " We need to make a white man's settlement, but 
we do not wish to be far from our Indian friends. Will you 
let us have some of your land that w-e may make our homes 
near you ? " 

Canonicus thought a while, then he said: — 

" I have declared that no white man's settlements should 
ever be on my land ; but you are my brother. You and your 
friends may come. I will give you freely the land that is along 
the Moshassuck and Woonasquatucket Rivers." 

184 





^' .'.^. 



^-. 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

That 's the way Mr. Williams founded a settlement when 
he did not mean to. Mrs. Williams and the two little girls 
came in the summer, and ever so many others have come since 
then. Most of them are farmers; but we have not a plough 
among us; we have to dig the ground with Indian hoes. We 
have no cattle, either, and I don't know when we shall have 
any. A cow costs twenty-five or thirty pounds, and a yoke of 
oxen forty pounds. Pigs and goats are cheaper and much 
easier to take care of than cows. The great trouble is losing 
them in the Avoods; but Mr. Williams says he hopes to per- 
suade the Indians to let him have one of the islands in ]S[ar- 
ragansett Bay, and then we can keep them there. We have 
no mill yet, and so we have to pound all our corn with stones 
as the Indians do. The Court in Boston will not let us buy 
anji^hing in the Massachusetts colonies, so we have to do the 
best we can. They won't let us send any goods to England 
from their wharves, either, and none can land there for us. 
Perhaps by and by we can trade at T^ew Amsterdam; but 
that is a long way off. Mr. Williams has a house in Salem 
almost as fine as the Governor's; but he had to mortgage it 
to get money to give the Indians presents. Several people in 
the Massachusetts colonies owe him money, but he cannot 
get it. Governor Winthroj) would like to help him, but he 
cannot. He did send him a quantity of food, however; and 
Mr. AYinslow came from Plymouth to visit him. When he 
went away, he slipped a gold-piece into Mrs. Williams's hand. 

186 



THOMAS ANGELL OF PROVIDENCE 

I was waiting to paddle Mr. Wiiislow around the point and 
across the river, and I saw the tears come into her eyes as 
she thanked him. I think Mr. WilHams is the most generous 
man I ever knew. The kind was all his as much as the coat 
on his back, and he gave it to us without our pajdng a penny. 
The settlement is laid out in lots running back from the 
eastern shore of the Moshassuck. Mr. Williams's is just across 
the road from the spring where we first landed to talk with 
the Indians. Between the lots and the water there is a road 
that runs the whole length of the neck. Mr. Williams named 
the j)lace Providence, in gratitude for God's watchfulness 
over him. He does not seem to care whether Providence ever 
becomes a town or not; but Mr. Harris declares that it will, 
and that some day our road will be a street in a great city. 
Sometimes I think I should like to be alive tAvo or three hun- 
dred years from now and see whether it is really a city, or 
wdiether no one lives here but panthers and w^olves. I live 
with Mr. Waterman again, but I have my lots, of course; and 
if Providence ever does become a city, maybe my great-great- 
grandchildren will say, " That 's the land that ni}^ great-great- 
grandfather had of Mr. Williams, and he had it from the 
Indians." How I should like to hear them ! 



XIII 

A Letter ivritten by Polly Bergen of New Am- 
sterdam to iter Aimt in JEngland 



New Amsterdam, 
September 9, 1661. 

YOU said I must be brave and remember that I was doing 
what my father wanted me to do; and truly I have tried, 
and I am trying now as hard as ever I can. Do you remem- 
ber that -dreadful day when you told me about the will, that 
as soon as I was fourteen I must go away from you and all 
the people I loved, and stay for four long years with an aunt 
whom I had never seen? I have n't been happy for even one 
little minute since that day. I am sure he would never have 
made such a will if he had dreamed that Aunt Catarina would 
leave Holland and come to ^N^ew Xetherland. 

Oh, Aunt Helen, I am homesick for you and the boys. I 'm 
horrid and cross ; but I '11 try my very best to forget it all and 
tell you about things here as you asked me to do, just as if I 
were a little white-winged angel. I did n't feel the least bit 
like an angel on the boat, for it was cold and crowded and 
uncomfortable. Madame Martense was very good to me, but 

188 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

she does not know much EngHsh, so we could n't talk together 
very well. We gazed at each other and tried to look pleasant. 
She taught me a little Dutch ; but the only word that I really 
wanted to say was Engeland. You can guess what that 
means. 

I thought that when we came in sight of America the voy- 
age would be almost over, but we w^ent by miles and miles of 
shore. Sometimes it \yas low and sandy, sometimes there were 
rocks, and almost everywhere we could see woods a little way 
back from the water. There was not a sign of people. Really 
it seemed more lonesome than when we could n't see any land 
at all, and I felt more and more homesick every minute. We 
came into a sort of channel. It was very wide, but after a 
while the shores began to draw nearer together. That is the 
East River, Uncle Pieter says. (I '11 tell you about him by and 
by.) We went through a kind of whirlpool, and pretty soon 
I saw something away off that looked like that big picture 
of a windmill of my father's, the one that used to frighten 
me so when I was little. I managed to ask Madame Martense 
if it was a windmill, and she said yes, but that I must call it a 
windrnolen now. Pretty soon I saw two more of them. Then 
there was something that I thought was a fort and a flag 
going up on the flagstaff. If it had only been our own dear 
old St. George's cross, how happy I should have been ! But it 
was the blue, white, and orange of the West India Company. 
I could see a church and a good many little houses. There 

190 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 



THE STADT HUVS 

were some large buildings. The largest of all are the Com- 
pany's storehouses and the town hall, or stadt kuys as they call 
it. The storehouses are where the Company keep the goods 
that they sell to the Lidians for furs, and where they store the 
furs till a ship comes to carry them to Holland. The stadt 
huys is a queer looking building. It is three stories, and the 
roof is so steep and high that they put two stories, more into 
that; at any rate, there are tAvo rows of windows in it. The 
gable ends of the big houses ai'e all made in steps. That is 
done so the sweeps can climli up to the chimneys. 

After a long while we came near enough to see the people 

191 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

on the wharf. Uncle Pieter says there are fourteen or fifteen 
hmidred in N^ew Amsterdam, and I really believe every one 
of them was there. They did look so queer and short and fat. 
Some of the men wore long leather aprons with one corner 
tucked under their belts. A good many of the aprons were 
red ; and indeed there were bright colors enough anywhere to 
make a rainbow. I suppose the men with the aprons were the 
laborers. The other men wore long-waisted coats with skirts 
coming down almost to their ankles. They had waistcoats 
with large flaps and very full knee-breeches gathered at the 
knee and fastened with buckles. I am sure that some of the 
men must have had on at least six pairs of these breeches. 
They had evidently put on their best clothes to see the boat 
come in, and they were gorgeous. I saw one in a buff coat 
with blue silk sleeves. Another had a long purple cloak with 
a scarlet lining. One fairly shone in green silk breeches em- 
broidered with flowers of silver and gold. Some of the men 
wore caps, but those that were dressed most wore great beaver 
hats. There was one man who seemed to be giving orders to 
everybody. He had a wooden leg, and he stumped about from 
one side of the wharf to the other. Wherever he went the 
people got out of his way as fast as they could. They acted 
as if they were half afraid of him; but I saw him sweep his 
arm around a little girl who was leaning over the edge of the 
wharf and pull her back, and she did n't seem at all frightened. 
He had on a dark red velvet jacket. The sleeves were slashed 

192 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 

so that his full, puffed shirt showed, and he had big rosettes on 
his shoes. His stockings were fastened at the knees with blue 
silk sashes. The Avomen wore short skirts and a great many 
of them. Some wore loose jackets and aprons of all colors, 
and a few wore bodices much like ours. I saw one jacket 
made of red and blue silk with sleeves of red and yellow. 
The woman who wore it had blue stockings with red clocks. 
Most of them had on some kind of headdress. Some wore 
quilted hoods of silk; a good many wore close-fitting little 
caps or bonnets that covered their hair but left their ears, and 
generally earrings, out in plain view. They must like jewelry, 
for a oi-reat manv wore strino-s and string's of o^old beads around 
their necks. They had high-heeled shoes with buckles, and 
chains around their waists with all kinds of thino^s hano'inof 
from them. There were keys and scissors and purses and pin- 
cushions and needle-cases of all colors and shapes. The chil- 
dren, little ones and big ones, were out in full force. The girls 
were dressed almost the same as their mothers ; and they must 
have had on as many skirts as the women, for they could n't 
all have been as fat as they looked. The funny little boys 
climbed on posts and barrels so the}- could see all that there 
was to see, just as our own hojs would have done; but it 
makes me laugh now to fancy Harry or Tommy dressed as 
these little Dutchmen were. One small boy wore a blue jacket 
and stockings of the reddest red I ever saw. Some of the 
smallest ones wore blue aprons buttoned in the back, and so 

193 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

full that when the wind caught them the little fellows looked 
like big blue mushrooms, only mushrooms don't have scarlet 
legs. One boy, however, fairly glittered in yellow stockings 
and a red jacket. 

All this time while I was looking with both my eyes and 
wondering whether Aunt Catarina was one of those rainbow 
women, the men were bringing the vessel up to the Avharf, 
and slow enough they were. The people on shore shouted 
and waved scarfs and ai^rons and hats and handkerchiefs and 
even branches of trees. It was pleasant to have them welcome 
us, but somehow it seemed like such a little shout for such a 
big country. You see the land had stretched on miles and 
miles, as I said; and in the whole of it we had seen only this 
one little group of people. They did n't seem real. They 
looked so strange, and the sky was so blue and the sunshine 
so bright, that I almost fancied they Avere only figures like 
Punch and Judy, and that if I looked the other way for a 
minute they Avould all disappear and leave me alone with 
nothing but those fi-ightful windmills for company. 

At last we were at the wharf and peoj^le began to go 
ashore. I was left alone a minute, for Madame Martense's 
friends had come on board to meet her, and they were stand- 
ing up together, all talking Dutch as fast as they could speak. 
I wished some one would come for me, and then I wished 
there would n't. I was just thinking how delightful it would 
be if Aunt Catarina should forget to send for me and I could 

194 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 

hide away in some little corner and go back when the ship 
returned. I was wondering how long it would be before it 
would sail when I heard a voice ask in the funniest, stiffest 
way possible, just like the ticking of a great clock, " Is — this 
— Mistress — Bergen? " " Yes, I 'm Polly Bergen," I an- 
swered, and it did seem good to know that there was some one 
on this side of the ocean that belonged to me, even if he was 
a stranger and spoke English like a clock. He wore square- 
toed shoes with' silver buckles. I saw those first of all, for I 
was half afraid to look up. Then I saw that he had on green 
breeches and a green coat with a red lining and big silver 
buttons. His waistcoat was of red silk embroidered with little 
green leaves and trimmed with silver lace. He wore a big 
beaver hat; but I hardly saw it, for when my eyes once came 
to his face they stopped there. ''I — am — Uncle — Pieter," 
he said; and I forgot for one whole moment how homesick I 
was, for his cheeks were so red, his mouth so smiley, and his 
ej^es so blue and bright and kind that I could n't think of any- 
thing else but how glad I was that he had married my father's 
sister. " We — will — go — to — the — Aunt — Catarina," he 
went on in the same stiff way; but he looked as though, if he 
had only known more English, he would have said all sorts of 
pleasant things. He held out his hand to me, and I kept fast 
hold of it as if I had been four years old instead of fourteen, 
and we stepped upon the wharf. Close to the plank was the 
dearest httle woman you ever saw. She had on a short skirt 

195 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

like the rest and carried a great l3imch of things at her side; 
but I did n't mind that or even the funny Httle tight cap when 
I caught sight of her sweet face. She looked so much like the 
portrait of my father that I knew in a moment she was Aunt 
Catarina. All of a sudden it came over me that she used to 
be my father's little sister, that they had played together and 
gone to school together, and that he must have loved her 
dearly or he would n't have wanted me to go to her now. She 
threw her arms around my neck. " My own little girl," she 
said, " Gerret's dear little daughter ! " and she kissed me over 
and over. 

Then we went up the road together. Aunt Catarina on one 
side of me and Uncle Pieter on the other. Aunt Catarina 
learned English when she was a little girl; and she says that 
after my father went to England they always wrote to each 
other in English. He sent her some of our own books. One 
of them is here uoav. It is "Arcadia," by Sir Philip Sidne}'; 
and she and LTncle Pieter have been reading it aloud over and 
over and talking with the English people that are here in the 
settlement as much as they could so they could talk with me 
better when I came. Only think of those two grown folk 
doing all that and working as if they were children at school 
just to keep me from feeling strange! Aunt Catarina laughed 
when she told me, but I almost cried, it was so lovely in them. 

They told me this while we were walking up to the house. 
We went by some houses that were made of wood, some of 

196 




GOVERNOR PETER STLYVESANT 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

stone, some of red brick, and some of queer little yellow bricks 
that came from Holland. The houses looked as if they had 
been dropped down just as it happened, for in some places 
they faced the street, and in others they pushed out one end 
to it, as if they were half angry and had turned away as far as 
they dared. They looked sunny and bright, however. They 
are Jong, and I think they must be set down in that fashion so 
they can get sunshine their whole length. The sky was bluer 
and clearer than I ever saw it in England, and the houses 
looked almost as if they had been cut out of paper. They 
did n't seem any more real than the people on the wharf. I 
felt as if it was a big toy village and might disappear or 
tumble down all of a sudden. Just as I was thinking that, I 
heard a thump, thump behind us. It was the man with the 
wooden leg whom I had seen on the wharf. " Ah, Heer Hen- 
drick," he said, " whom have we here ? " Uncle Pieter said 
something in Dutch, then he turned to me and said, " This 
is Governor Stuyvesant." I made my very best curtsy; and 
the Governor said, " Poor little girl, with no father and no 
mother. Don't be homesick, little one ; we '11 make a fine little 
Dutch lady of you yet." I had thought he was cross to the 
people on the wharf when he ordered them about, but his voice 
was so gentle and tender now that I felt as if I had always 
known him. 

Uncle Pieter had taken hold of my hand again, and I liked 
to have him, for his hand was so warm and comfortable and 

198 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 

strong-. I began to feel at home with him ah*eady with his 
romid, smiley face and his stiff English; and as for Amit 
Catarina, I just loved her, she was so sweet and dear and 
looked so much like my father. But, oh. Aunt Helen, if we 
could only be in England and not away off in this lonesome 
country ! I Ve been here just one day, and there are three hun- 
dred and sixty-four left of this year besides the other three 
years. Won't the guardians let me count from the time I left 
England ? Ask them, please, won't you ? I 'd just as soon give 
up all the money if they will only let me come home. 

It did n't take half as long to get to the house as it takes me 
to write about it; and pretty soon Aunt Catarina said, " That 
is our home, Polly." " Your home," said Uncle Pieter, and he 
gave my hand a little squeeze. I really believe he is glad all 
through to have me come. I squeezed his hand back again, 
and he said, in that funny, slow way, " We were yesterday 
alone ; now have we one dear little daughter." Aunt Caterina 
pointed to a window where I could see some short white cur- 
tains and said, " That is our new little girl's room." The 
window was open a little. Just then the breeze blew the 
curtain away, and I could see a big pot of some kind of red 
flowers. They have been doing all this for me. Aunt Helen. 
Is n't it lovely of them ! 

I could see the end of the house first, where my room is, 
and then the front. The roof stretches out beyond the house 
in the back and makes a kind of porch. In front, at the top of 

199 



LETTERS FROxM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

the steps, there is a platform with a roof over it, and some 
low, comfortable seats on both sides. This is the front stoep. 
The house is made of little yellow bricks, and at the gable 
ends they are mixed with black ones in checkerboard fashion. 
The windows have heavy wooden shutters with holes shaped 
like half-moons in the upper part. The door is cut across in 
the middle. I think that is a good thing, for you can open the 
upper part to see who is there, and then not let him in unless 
you choose. There is a big brass knocker on the door, — a 
lion's head with a ring in his mouth ; and in the upper half 
there are two bull's-eyes of glass. The inside of the house is 
not the least bit like ours. I am going to tell you all about it 
another time, for it almost makes me feel as if I was talking 
to you when I write all these little things. Uncle Pieter and 
Aunt Catarina are so good to me that I should be wicked not 
to be happy with them; but I do want j^ou 
and England so much that I cried and cried 
last night till I went to sleep. If I could only 
see my own flag, it wouldn't be quite so bad; 
but when I looked out of my window this 

DUTCH FLAG • ^.U ^ + 4-1,- T ^1, 

mornmg, the very nrst thing 1 saw was the 
blue and white and orange of the Company. I 'm going to be 
good, though, Aunt Helen, truly I am; but it's three years 
and three hundred and sixty-four days longer, and I really 
can't help being a very homesick little Polly. 




XIV 

A Second Letter from Polly Bergen to her Aunt 

in England 



New Amsterdam, 
August 16, 1662. 

I HAVE been in ^ew Amsterdam almost a year, and I 've 
seen so much that I believe I could write whole books 
about it. Indeed, there has always been so much to say that 
I have never yet kept my promise to tell you all about the 
house and my first day here. I '11 do it before I write another 
thing. After we were fairly in the house, Aunt Catarina asked 
if I was not tired. I said no, but she persuaded me to lie 
down. I did, and I cried myself to sleep. It was quite dark 
when I woke, and there she stood with a bowl of thick, hot 
porridge made of milk and corn meal. " Won't you have a 
little suppawn ? " she asked, and she looked as anxious as if 
I was sick instead of only sleepy. It was good, and I sat up 
in bed and ate every bit of it. I caught a glimpse of Uncle 
Pieter standing with a candle just outside the door. Aunt 
Catarina said, " N^ow you shall go to sleep again and no one 
shall trouble you." I went to sleep and I stayed asleep, and 

201 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

the next thing that I heard was the blowing of a horn. I 
jumped up and looked out. It was just sunrise. The man with 
the horn Avore a pointed hat and had a long staff in his hand. 
He was almost under my window, and before him was a big 
herd of cows. They seemed to know just where to go, or else 
they understood what his horn-blowing meant. I watched 
them strolling up the road. I could see at two or three houses 
other cows that seemed to be waiting for them; for when the 
herd came along they walked out in a quiet, dignified fashion 
and joined it. 

I dressed as fast as I could, but I could n't help looking at 
the room between times. It was so white that I was almost 
frightened lest I should get a speck of dust on the floor. There 
was a chest of drawers as tall as I am, and there was a great 
low chest carved into all sorts of beautiful figures. I found 
that I had been sleeping on a thick feather bed with a thin 
one on top of me. The bedstead wore a little petticoat, or val- 
ance, made of red and white linen. There was a white curtain 
at the window and a flower-pot, — I mean a hloem-j^ot ; see 
how fast I am learning Dutch ! — on the wide window-sill. It 
was full of gorgeous red lilies of a kind that I never saw at 
home. I don't see how Aunt Catarina ever made them bloom 
at that time of the year. I went downstairs and ate such a 
breakfast as I never ate before. The big table is loaded with 
all kinds of food at every meal. A good deal of it is new to 
me, but it tastes good. We have oysters almost a foot long. 

202 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 

We have all the venison that Ave can eat. Just think of buying 
a whole deer for a jackknife ! That is what one of Aunt Cata- 
rina's neighbors did last week. We have wild turkey and wild 
goose and ducks and swans and pelicans and lobsters and ever 
so many kinds of fish. Thei'e are beautiful apples, the finest I 
ever saw; there are cherries and peaches, so many that no one 




DUTCH HOUSES, CORNER BROAD AND EXCHANGE STREETS 



objects if a stranger picks as many as he likes. There are all 
kinds of vegetables. The thing I like best is Indian corn. It 
looks as if a stick a foot long had been covered with rows of 
tiny yellow beans and then wrapped in a sort of pale green 
parchment cut into long leaves. We put it into the hot ashes 

203 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

to cook. Sometimes we pull off the parchment first and then 
roast it before the hot coals. The Indians say the first kernels 
were dropped from the sky by a crow. And the cakes ! There 
are more kinds than I ever dreamed of. Some of them are 
fried in lard, and some are baked in a tin oven that stands 
before the fireplace. I 've been here almost a year, and I don't 
feel sure even now of the names of all the different kinds. 

When I began this letter, I meant to tell you first of all 
about the house. Aunt Catarina took me through it that first 
morning, and Uncle Pieter followed. In the kitchen there was 
the greatest fireplace I ever saw and the greatest fire. The 
backlog was bigger than I, and the other logs were not so very 
much smaller. The kitchen door was very wide and opened 
right out on the ground. " What a great door ! " I cried, and 
Aunt Catarina said, " Yes, most people have their logs brought 
in by men now, but we are on the hillside, and so the horse drags 
them in every morning, just as was done here twenty years 
ago." I don't see how any horse ever dared to drag a log into 
such a clean room. Everything fairly shone. The firedogs 
were of iron and almost as large as real dogs, — I mean big 
ones, — and they needed to be to hold such logs. A woman 
was at work getting dinner. She was hanging big kettles and 
little kettles and middle-sized kettles on the pot-hooks just as 
we do at home; but there were two things that I never saw 
before. One looked as if a great sheet of tin had been bent 
almost around, leaving the opening next to the fire. This is 

204 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 

the oven ; and when the}^ want to roast meat they hang it in 
this oven. A spit runs through so they can turn it. The other 
thing is a bake-kettle. It is like a dish on legs. They put 
bread into the dish and pile hot coals on top. And now, 
Aunt Helen, I have something worth telling. AVhile I stood 
looking at the fireplace, a real Indian walked in through the 
big door. Of course I never saw an Indian before, but I 
thought they wore feathers and always carried a bow and 
arrows and a tomahawk. This one was dressed in some old 
Dutch clothes, — and a funny Dutchman he made, — and in- 
stead of a tomahawk he had a pail of water. Aunt Catarina 
says there is always an Indian hanging around who is glad to 
cut the kindling wood, bring in water, and do such work. He 
wants something to eat and a place on the back stoej) to sleep; 
but he does not expect any wages. The woman came from 
Holland. Uncle Pieter paid the cost of her passage, and she 
has agreed to work for Aunt Catarina till she has made it 
up. Aunt Catarina says, however, that she thinks the woman 
means to be married and leave her. Is n't that a shabby thing 
to do ! The fireplace and the big door took up one whole side 
of the kitchen. On another side was a hanging rack. It was 
full of pewter plates, and how they did shine! Across the 
corner was a big dresser, and here were pewter porringers 
and spoons and some earthen dishes. Uncle Pieter followed 
us about, and when we came to the pewter he said, " You will 
one day be good vrouw to some Dutchman and make the 

205 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

pewter to shine." The kitchen was long and low, and over- 
head were thick, heavy beams that looked strong enough to 
hold the Tower of London. 

We went out of the kitchen into a hall that goes straight 
through the house. One door was shut tight. Uncle Pieter 
put his hand on the latch, and then he stopped as if he was 
not quite sure whether to open it or not. " Yes, Pieter, open 
the door," said Aunt Catarina. " Polly wants to see the par- 
lor, I know." He opened the door, but he went into the room 
on tiptoe, as if he was afraid of Avaking it up. It was so dark 
that I could not see anything in it. Suddenly Aunt Catarina 
said, " Pieter, you take Polly outside and open the shutters so 
she can look into the window, and I will pull the curtain 
aside." So Uncle Pieter and I went outside. He opened the 
shutters and Aunt Catarina pulled away the curtains. I could 
see that the floor was covered with fine white sand, with curves 
and little wavy lines drawn upon it. There were some high- 
backed chairs with rush bottoms, and there was a fireplace 
with white tiles around it. Over the fireplace was a mantel 
with two brass candlesticks, and exactly half way between 
them were some silver snuffers. Over the mantel was a pic- 
ture that I thought was the ruler of the JN^etherlands, but there 
was not light enough so I could be sure. The great beams in 
the top of the room I thought were carved. The chairs had 
carved feet and looked immensely heavy. I am certain that I 
could not move the table. It looked as heavy as a small house, 

206 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 

l3ut it was pretty, for it a\ as made of some dark reddish wood, 
and it had been poHshed till it shone. It was so bright that I 
really believe it shines when it is all alone in the dark. Of 
course no one ever nses the room. I couldn't imagine two 
people sitting down in those solemn chairs to have a comfort- 
able talk together. I know they could n't say a word. After 
I had seen so much. Aunt Catarina put the curtains in place 




THE STUYVESANT HOUSE 



and Uncle Pieter closed the shutters and fastened them; and, 
though I have been here almost a year, as I said, I have never 
been into that parlor. Once a week Aunt Catarina takes the 
maid and goes in. They sweep and scrub and clean and dust. 
They put down fi-esh sand and make the figures in it. Then 

207 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

they draw the curtains together and go out; and no one thinks 
of such a thing as opening the door again till the next cleaning 
day comes round. I asked Uncle Pieter one day if the Dutch 
ever used their parlors, and he said, " Oh, yes, they always 
use the parlor when there is one funeral. There must be a 
parlor. With no parlor the good vrouw would not be happy." 

There was a room for milk with queer little wooden tubs, 
and there was a room for spinning. In this room were three 
spinning-wheels and a big loom. Some one had been at work, 
for there was a piece of linen half done. " Can you weave, 
Polly ? " Aunt Catarina asked, and I said, " No." " But you 
can spin ? " I had to say no to that, too, and I saw that she 
was a little shocked. (I found later that all the Dutch girls 
learn how to spin and weave long before they are as old as I 
am.) 

On the other side of the hall from the parlor a door was half 
open into another room, and we went there next. It was a 
big room with little chintz curtains. The sun was shining in 
as if it liked the place, and I really believe the flowers that 
were growing in the windows were trying to reach up and 
catch the sunbeams. It was so bright and easy and cheery 
after that frozen parlor that I cried right out, " What a dear, 
sweet room this is ! " Aunt Catarina looked perfectly happy. 
" This is the room I want you to like best," she said. " This 
is where I will knit and sew and sometimes spin. We will sit 
here, and you will read to us from the English books, and per- 

208 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 

haps you will learn some of the Dutch ? " " How can Polly 
learn Dutch V " asked Uncle Pieter. " She has her kos to make. 




A DUTCH MAIDEN 



You want to make a kos, don't you, Polly ? " " I 'm sure I 
do," 1 answered; " but j^lease tell me what a Tcos is." " There 

209 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

is a chest for one in your room," said Aunt Catarina, " and 
here is a kos; but you shan't do it unless you Uke; " and she 
pointed out a heavy oaken chest. It was carved with a hand- 
some border of leaves and grapes, and it had great silver 
hinges and a lock big enough for the door of a cathedral. 
"Open it," said Aunt Catarina; and I raised the lid. It was 
full to the very brim with sheets and pillow-cases and table- 
cloths and rolls of linen. " Every Dutch maiden must have a 
chest like this," said Aunt Catarina. She must carry the flax 
up Maiden Lane with the other girls and lay it in the brook to 
soak and soften. She must spin the thread and weave the 
linen. Then she goes again up Maiden Lane with her linen. 
She spreads it out on the grass to bleach ; and when it is white 
she makes it into these things and marks her initials on them 
in cross stitch. Then when she marries, the chest says to her 
husband's friends, " See what a good, industrious maiden has 
become his wife ! " The chest was so big that I wondered if 
the Dutch girls ever had time for anything else, and I asked 
Aunt Catarina. " Oh, yes," she replied; " they learn how to 
do all kinds of knitting and how to work samplers. Then they 
learn to sew and embroider; and of course every girl wants to 
know how to cook and take care of a house." "Will the Dutch 
girls think I am very stupid and ignorant ? " I asked. " Per- 
haps they will not care to come to see me, for we can't talk 
together." That was something I had not thought of before. 
Just fancy not having even one girl friend ! I suppose my 

210 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 

face was as long as my arm, for both Aunt Catarina and 
Uncle Pieter cried out, and Aunt Catarina said, " Many people 
here know a little English, and the children learn it very fast. 
There are many English people here now. The young girls 
will be glad to come to you. Don't think that you will be 
lonely." She looked troubled, and Uncle Pieter looked as 
anxious as if I had come down with a fever. I 've no business 
to be lonely with two such dear people ; but, oh, Aunt Helen, 
it is n't home even yet, and, much as I love them, I do long 
for England and you. 

But I have n't told you half about the sitting-room. There 
was a fireplace, of course, — not so enormous as the one in 
the kitchen, but so big that I was sure the room could never 
be cold. There were tiles all around the fireplace, white and 
shining. There were pictures on them, too, drawn in blue. I 
think they were all from the Bible, and they were funny 
enough. What should you think of a Dutch woman gazing 
at a cradle with a great wooden hood floating down a canal ? 
Can you guess it? It was Moses in the bulrushes. Pharaoh's 
daughter had on ever so many short skirts, and had keys and 
scissors and a big pincushion hanging at her side. Moses was 
dressed just like a Dutch baby. In front of this fireplace there 
were beautiful brass andirons, and how they did shine ! 

On one side of the room was a cupboard, a pretty one of 
some dark, handsome wood. In it were some china dishes and 
ever so much silver: spoons, tankards, porringers, salt-cellars, 

211 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

sugar-tongs, a milk pitcher shaped hke a cow, sifters to sift 
cinnamon and sugar on hot Avaffles, and " bite-and-stir " sugar 
boxes with loaf sugar in one side and powdered sugar in the 
other. 

Across the room from the fireplace were two windows, and 
between them was a bookshelf. It was a solid one, of course; 
everything in the house looks as if rolling down a cliff 
wouldn't even jar it. Up in one corner of the shelf stood 
the "Arcadia." It looked very slender and elegant beside the 
chunky little Dutch books bound in parchment and printed in 
heavy black letter. There were two silver-mounted Psalm- 
books, a prayer-book with silver rings so it could be worn on 
a chain, a catechism, and a small Bible. The others I could 
not make out. Under the bookshelf was a little square table 
with a drawer. It had a white cloth with heavy blue embroid- 
ery running all the way around it. This table is a Ixiiaai^. or 
lightstand; but it was not used for any such common purpose 
as supporting a candle : it held an immense Dutch Bible with 
leather covers and heavy silver clasps and corner pieces. Aunt 
Catarina opened it and turned to the record of births and 
deaths. There was my father's name with " Geboren den 23**^ 
Augustus 1620;" and '• Clestorven den 14"" March 1652," — 
when I was just three years old. She told me what it meant, 
but now I can read easy Dutch for myself. Aunt Catarina has 
taught me Dutch and I have read to her a good deal in Eng- 
lish. You know I brought with me that great book of plays 

212 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 

by Master William Shakespeare, and we have read ever so 
many of them aloud. We take the different parts, and you 
ought to hear Uncle Pieter say : — 

" Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; 
In a cowslip's bell I lie." 

It 's a shame to laugh at him even on paper, for he is the 
dearest, kindest uncle that a girl ever had. 

Somehow it takes me a long while to tell you about the 
sitting-room; but there is one thing more that I must not 
leave out. It looked in the room just like two folding doors. 
When they were opened, there was a great shelf, and on that 
shelf was a bed, made up with sheets and pillows and two 
feather beds, all ready for any guest that might come unex- 
pectedly. That is a slaapbaiik. There are two rooms for 
guests, however, besides mine, and they have beds with tall 
posts, carved in a pattern that runs round and round to the 
very top. 

This sitting-room is where Aunt Catarina and I spend a 
great deal of our time indoors, and Uncle Pieter often comes 
in to sit with us. When company comes, they are never taken 
to the parlor, but always to this room. Of course in the sum- 
mer we sit on the front .s^oe/9, and we have the cosiest little 
chats with the neighbors. They never go by without stop- 



ping. 

lon't wonder Aimt Cat 

213 



I don't wonder Aunt Catarina said there would be girls 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

enough coming to see me, for there are swarms of them, both 
EngUsh and Dutch, and some lovely French girls who cannot 
speak. English very w^ell. I should be so proud I should n't 
know what to do Avith myself if I didn't know that they came 
quite as much to see Aunt Catarina as to see me. They think 
everything of her. The older girls, too, those that are as much 
as eighteen or nineteen, are always coming to ask her some- 
thing about the linen that every Dutch woman seems to think 
so much of. I 'm not going to make a kos, Aunt Helen, but 
I 've learned how to spin, and I 've been up Maiden Lane with 
the other girls ever so many times, and laid bmidles of flax in 
the brook to grow soft and tender. I can't weave yet, but 
Aunt Catarina says that she will teach me this winter; and so 
next spring I can carry out some nice linen to bleach that is 
all of my own making. 

We don't spend all our days spinning and weaving, how- 
ever, for we have had some splendid times. In the winter we 
take long rides in sleighs that slip over the snow as easily as 
a boat goes through the water. I have learned to skate ; some 
of the Dutch boys taught me. They, and the girls, too, can 
skate five times as fast as a boy can run. In the summer we 
often take a long walk to some lovely place in the woods. The 
boys make a sort of bowser of branches. Then we girls sit 
down and knit or maybe embroider while the boys go fishing. 
When the}^ come back with their fish, they make a fire, and 
we all cook the fish and get dinner. The boys are well laughed 

214 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

at if they can't catch any fish. After dinner all go in search 
of strawberries or blackberries or whatever fruit is ripe. Some- 
times we go right to the berrying place at first, and carry 
bottles of cream with us to eat with the berries. Sometimes 
we row over to Breuckelen and spend an afternoon at the 
home of some friend. We always bring back peaches or some 
other kind of fruit, for more grows here than can be eaten, 
and people are glad to give it away. Then we have all sorts 
of good times at one another's houses. There are appleparings 
and huskings and quilting bees. Lideed, whenever anything 
is to be done that more than one person can work at, the 
Dutch people have a bee. They come together and pare the 
aj^ples or husk the corn or raise the barn, whichever it may 
be, and then they have a supper, with tables loaded as I never 
saw tables before. After supper there is always a dance. 
I like the Dutch girls. They are blunt as they can be, but 
they are honest and kind, and if they are once your friends, 
they are always. I wish I could carry some of them back with 
me. It 's three whole years more, Aunt Helen, and then I 
shall have you again. I wonder if there will be a ship ready 
to sail the very day that the four years are up. Is n't it 
wicked to say such things when Aunt Catarina is so good 
to me ! We have been reading Master Shakespeare's play, 
" Julius Caesar," and when we came to " N"ot that I loved 
Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more," I whispered to my- 
self, " That 's just the way I feel; " but I don't see how a man 

216 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 

who died ages ago could ever have known how a girl would 
feel to-day. 

I am your own little Polly ; but don't forget that I have had 
a birthday. I 'ni fifteen years old now. Think of that ! 



XY 



A Third Letter from Polly Bergen to her Aunt in 

England 



New Amsterdam, 
Augicst 4, 1664. 

THERE is always something new here to see. When I looked 
out of my w indow one morning I saw what looked like 
a big, fat pincushion tied to the knocker of the front door of 
the house across the road. I hurried down to ask Aunt Cata- 
rina what it was there for. " Why, there 's a new baby in the 
house," she declared. "Was the cushion white ?" "ISTo, blue," 
I answered. " Then it is a boy," she said. " If it had been a 
girl, the cushion would have been white." She was surprised 
when I told her we did not hang out pincushions in England. 
She promised to borrow it some day ; and one afternoon she 
brought it into the sitting-room to show me. It was made of 
very heavy satin, and so loaded with ruffles and laces and 
bows that it looked as if a whole swarm of butterflies had 
lighted upon it. Ever so many names and dates were embroid- 
ered on the satin, and Aunt Catarina said they were the names 
and birthdays of the older children of the family. Every 

218 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 

household has such a cushion, and it serves as a sort of family 
record, for they hand it down from one generation to another. 
We went to see the baby, of course. It had on a tiny white 
cap that fitted close to its head and was edged with a very 
full ruffle. It lay in a cradle of mahogany made with a large 
roof, or hood, that kept the drafts away from its head. They 
say that at Fort Orange they make cradles of birch bark. 
There 's a funny little rhyme that people here sing to their 
babies. It begins, — 

" Trip a trop a tronjes, 
De varkeii in de boonjes." 



It means, 



From your throne upon my knee, 
The pigs out in tlie beanpatch see. 



It goes on to say that no one of the pigs, cows, horses, ducks, 
or calves is so sweet as the baby. 

The Indians always take good care of their babies. They 
roll them up in soft, warm fur and bind them to a board. Then 
they hang the board in some place where they are sure that 
nothing can happen to the child. I thought I should be afraid 
of the Indians, and when I saw one bringing in water for 
Aunt Catarina I almost expected him to turn around and scalp 
us; but we hardly ever go out without seeing them. They 
bring furs to sell to the Company, — no one but the Company 
is allowed to buy furs, because that is the easiest way to make 
money, and they want to make it all themselves. The Indians 

219 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

bring baskets and brooms and sassafras, and sometimes deer 
and turkeys that they have shot. Everybody is kind to them, 
and one lady has built a large shed back of her house so the 
squaws can sit there and work. They make beautiful baskets, 
and we girls often go there to watch them. Saturday is mar- 
ket-day, and then they go to the market-place to sell their 
baskets and the mats and brooms that they make of corn 
husks. 

The Indians use shells for money, and so do we for that 
matter, but the Indians did it first. They break off the little 
twisted ends of the periwinkle shells, smooth them, and string 
them. This is wampum, and six of these beads are worth a 
Dutch stiver or an English penny. When we buy things in 
market we can pay in money or in shells, as we like; but 
people almost always pay in shells. One of the girls told me 
that a man was so rich that he had "whole hogsheads of wam- 
pum." There is another kind of shell money that is worth 
more than wampum. This is sewcmt. It is made of the blue 
part of the clam shell. Three of these beads make a penny. 
The Indians think the blue sewant is beautiful, and they wear 
long chains of it for ornaments. There are plenty of clam shells 
over on the Breuckelen shore ; but it is so much work to make 
the wampum, and much more the sewant, and the squaws feel 
so well dressed when they have some strings of it, that I don't 
wonder they are willing to give venison and arrows and skins 
to get it, just as we should be to get gold. I think that, if — 

220 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

New York, 
September 30, 1664. 

I am afraid I shall never know what it was that I thought. 

I put the letter away, meaning to write pages and pages more 

about the way the Indians and the Dutch do things, and what 

I myself am doing when I am not with the young folks on a 

good time or walking up Maiden Lane with flax or linen, — 

for I really did weave a piece last winter, and I feel very 

proud of it, — or just having a cosy little time with Aunt Cat- 

arina, telling her about England or listening to her stories 

of Holland. But something happened that put all thoughts of 

writing letters quite out of my head. One morning Uncle 

Pieter came into the house as nearly like a whirlwind as you 

can imao^ine so moderate a man. He was too much excited to 

talk English, but I could understand his Dutch enough to know 

that four English ships were coming, and that they meant to 

try to take New Amsterdam. I was so happy that I did n't 

know what to do; but Aunt Catarina w^as frightened and 

Uncle Pieter was troubled. He could n't stop more than a 

minute, for he is a member of the Council, and they were 

going to hold a meeting. When he came back, he said that 

they should strengthen the fortifications and store up in the 

village as much food as possible so as to be ready for a siege. 

Just think of me being besieged by Cousin Richard and 

Cousin William ! It might be, for they are both in the navy. 

The fright was all for nothing, people thought; for the next 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 



THE STRAND 



thing' was the coming of a ship from Holland. The captain 
knew all about that English fleet. They were to go to Boston, 
he said, and tell the New Englanders that they must not be 
so independent and that they must go to the Church of Eng- 
land. The ships were not coming here at all ! I was heart- 
broken. Aunt Catarina was happy, but Uncle Pieter looked 
sober. He did n't seem to feel satisfied even then that things 
were just right, and he wanted Governor Stuyvesant to keep 
two warships that were in the harbor all ready to start for 
Curagoa. The captains were indignant enough at the thought 
of waiting, and the Governor did not believe there was any 

223 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

need of it, for by this time messengers had come from NTew 
England to say that the fonr Enghsh vessels were in Boston 
Harbor, and that Colonel Nicolls, who was in command, 
was arranging to establish the Church of England in Massa- 
chusetts. 

It was a whole month after that when a courier dashed into 
the town at full speed. " The English ships ! " he cried. " They 
have left Boston and they are on their way to Xew Amster- 
dam." The Governor was at one of the settlements ever so 
far up the river, and messengers had to go for him. He came 
back, and then everything whirled. He stamped around in a 
perfect rage. Uncle Pieter said, because he had let the two 
warships sail. He made the people bring their shovels and 
spades and wheelbarrows and pickaxes and go to work on the 
fortifications. Then he sent messengers to bring in all sorts of 
food that could be stored. He had not much time to do this 
in, for in three days the four English frigates came up the 
East River and anchored not far from Xew Amsterdam. I '11 
own up, Aunt Helen, and sa}^ that I did feel half afraid even 
of ni}^ own people, for the frigates were so big and black, and 
they had so many guns, — one hundred and twent}^. Uncle 
Pieter said. I don't wonder that poor Governor Stuyvesant 
was almost beside himself, for he had but twenty guns and 
not much powder. He rushed about from one place to an- 
other, storming because more provisions did not come in, 
hurrying the men who were digging as hard as ever they 

224 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 

could, and raging because there was so little powder. " They 
shan't have it," he went about muttering. " Powder or no 
powder, the land is ours and we will hold it." Honestly, it 
does seem as if it fairly belonged to them. Henry Hudson 
discovered it and the Dutch settled it. They have held it for 
half a century, and I can't see why it is n't theirs as much as 
Holland is. Laicle Pieter did not feel sure that it was best 
to fight, and I did so hope they would n't. 

Last Saturday we saw a small boat coming from the flag- 
ship, and Governor Stu^vesant called the Council together. 
The boat brought a paper from Colonel Nicolls, commander 
of the fleet, summoning New N^etherland to surrender. " We '11 
never surrender," the Governor declared. Then I suppose he 
remembered that he must ask the others what they thought 
about it. The first one said, " The English have certainly a 
thousand soldiers and we have only one hundred and fift3\" 
" Only one hundred and fifty ! " cried the Governor. " Where 
are the men of the place? " " There are manj English among 
them," the councillor said. " They would rather have English 
rule than Dutch, and" — but the Governor would n't hear any 
mere from him, and he turned to the next man. " Will you 
give up your country to a parcel of English thieves?" he 
demanded. " I would n't give it up if I could hold it," he 
replied; " but we have neither powder nor food. There 's no 
use in letting them starve us and batter down our houses and 
then having to yield after all." " You 're a coward ! " the 

225 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

Governor roared. " If you had been before St. Martin, yon 
wonld have known something about how men can fight." 
" But what are we to fight for? " another one asked. The 
Governor glared at him, too angry to speak, and tlie coun- 
cillor went on. He said, '' This is not Holland, it is hardly 
even a Dutch colony. There are settlers here from England 
and France and a dozen other countries. We are governed 
less by our gracious Prince than by the West India Com- 
pany." "And what has the Company done for us that we 
should fight for them? " another demanded. •■' It was their 
business to strengthen the fort and to keep enough soldiers 
here to defend us. They care for nothing but buying beaver 
skins. Why should we lose our homes and maybe our fives to 
help make them rich? Moreover, the English colonies are 
much more free than we, and we shall be as well off under 
English rule as under the Company's." 

Then the Governor was so angry that he turned them all 
out. He went on getting ready to fight. He sent in all direc- 
tions for food, and he bought all the powder that the colonies 
up the river would spare. He tried to make the men work on 
the fortifications; but as soon as he turned away they thi erw 
down their spades and picks and began to talk together. Tues- 
day morning Uncle Pieter was called to a meeting of the 
Council at the fort. Colonel NTicolls had sent another letter. 
It said that, if they would surrender, the Dutch people should 
be just as free as ever to go back and forth between New 

226 



^ 




GOVERXOK STUYVESANT TEAKS UP THE LETTER 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

Amsterdam, and Holland, and that King Charles was read}^ to 
give them many more privileges. " It is only right that the peo- 
ple should hear this," said one. "■ Yes, let us read it to them," 
cried the councillors. Then the Governor was in a fur3\ " I 
won't do it, I won't ! " he thundered. He pounded on the floor 
with his wooden leg, as he always does when he is angiy, and 
tore the letter into pieces. The councillors Avere indignant, 
and some of them turned their backs on him and walked out 
of the fort. There were crowds of people outside, and when 
they knew about the letter they hooted and groaned and 
hissed till one would have thought all the geese in the country 
were there. " Show us the letter ! " they cried, " show us the 
letter ! " The Grovernor was in such a rage that he, too, had 
gone away from the fort; and the clerk of the Council picked 
up the bits of paper and read the letter aloud. 

When the people heard the letter, there was hai'dly a man 
in the village who did not think it best to surrender; but the 
Governor went on getting ready to fight. Of course the men 
of the village would not obey him very well, but the soldiers 
did not dare to refuse. The ships came nearer and nearer, 
and our men — I mean the English, of course — were landed 
on the Breuckelen side. Governor Stuyvesant had his guns 
ready and the gunners standing beside them. We could see 
them from my window, and we were terribly frightened. He 
did not fire, however. They say the minister told him it was 
wicked to shed blood Avhen it would do no good. He did not 

228 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 

give up, though, for the next thing we saw, he was marching 
down to the shore with a hundred of the soldiers. Then 
Aunt Catarina cried out, " Oh, he 's going to fight! The Eng- 
Hsh will be angry and they will burn our homes. I will beg 




DUTCH COTTAGE 



him to save us." Li about a minute she was on her way to 
the Governor. She could not get very near him, for such a 
crowd of men and women were around him. A man had just 
handed him a paper to read. It urged him to surrender, and 
it was signed by his own son and about a hundred of the 
principal colonists. The Governor did not rage then, Aunt 
Catarina said, but he gave a groan, and stood looking away 

229 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

off as if he had forgotten all about the frigates and the can- 
non. The women pressed around him. " Save us ! " they cried, 
'' save us ! Don't let the English soldiers burn our homes. 
Have mercy upon us ! Pity us and our little children ! " The 
children were frightened and they began to cry, " Pity us, 
pity us ! " The Governor stared at them as if he did not see 
them at all. His lips twitched, Aunt Catarina told me, and he 
looked as if he was going to cry. Then he said, " Let it be 
so, but I would rather be carried to my grave." He gave the 
order to run up a white flag at the fort; and before Aunt 
Catarina was at home her home was safe. 

Now that it is all over, I really think that both Uncle Pieter 
and Aunt Catarina are glad of the change. They call me the 
little rebel, and laugh at me and say I must hurry with my 
hos, for it will not be long before some young oflficer will be 
coming for me, and they are in the best of spirits. Next Sun- 
day, after the Dutch service at St. Nicholas, we are to ha^e 
our own service read by the English chaplain. I asked Aunt 
Catarina if I might go, and she said of course I might. " Bet- 
ter go with her, Catarina," Uncle Pieter said. " Remember 
those young officers." He will take the oath of allegiance to 
England. He says it is right to do that if England rules him 
and protects him. Governor Stuyvesant has promised to take 
it, and so have a great many of the men. Uncle Pieter saw 
the first meeting between the Governor and Colonel Nicolls, 
who is governor now. He says that they did not look the least 

230 



POLLY BERGEN OF NEW AMSTERDAM 

bit as if they hated each other, and that two such l)raye sol- 
diers as they will be good friends before many months have 
passed. 

Do you realize how the months are passing and that in less 
than a year I can see you again? And yet there is much here 
that I hate to leave. Uncle Pieter and Aunt Catarina will be 
so sorry. If there were only some way of floating England 
over here, or of floating New Amsterdam — but it is n't New 
Amsterdam any longer ; it is New York now — over to Eng- 
land! Why can't people have the ones they love best all 
together in one place? I 'm here and you are there, and all I 
can do is to wish and wish and wish that we were together 
somewhere. 



XVI 



A Fourth Letter from Polly Bergen to her Aunt 

in England 



Neiv York, 
February 16, 1665. 

I AM almost eighteen years old, but I 'm going to believe in 
good fairies as long as I live. I feel like a girl in a magic 
palace, for my wish has come true. When I read in your let- 
ter that Uncle thought that, now New York was under Eng- 
lish rule, there w^ould be a better chance for the boys here 
than in crowded England and that you were coming here to 
live, I fairly shouted with delight. Aunt Catarina laughed, 
then she cried, then she did both at once, and Uncle Pieter 
was about as bad, — I mean as good, — -the dear man that 
he is! 

And now it is February, and you will be here in May ! 
Perhaps this letter will never reach you, ships are so slow; 
but who cares if it never even gets on board of a ship, for 
you 're coming, you 're all coming, to this big, splendid coun- 
try, where there is room for everybody. What glorious times 
we will have, and what a haj^py, happy, happy Polly I am ! 

232 



XYII 

A Letter ivritten hy Judith March of Neivhnry, 
Massaclmsetts, to her cousin, Anna MaitJand, in 
England 

Newbury, February 21, 1664. 

I WAS eleven years old yesterday, but if all my birthdays are 
going to be as bad as this one I shall wish I had been born 
on the twenty-ninth of February. The trouble began on the 
day before. It was the Sabbath, and I did the wickedest thing 
I ever did in all my life: I laughed right out in meeting. It 
was dreadful. The minister stopped and looked straight at me, 
everybody looked at me, and I was so ashamed. Father always 
stands by me, but he was gazing up at the gallery as if he did 
not know anything had happened ; and I could feel hoAv mor- 
tified mother was. Oh, I was never so wicked before. 

This is what made me laugh. The people were singing, — 

" With reverence let the saints appear 
And bow before the Lord," 

and they sang it, — 

" And bow-ow-ow, and bow-ow-ow." 
233 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

The meeting-house is so cold that mother has a sheepskin bag 
nailed to the seat to keep her feet warm, and father lets me 
bring Ponto. He lies down in front of me and I put my feet 
on his back. He never did such a thing before. He is the best 
dog in the meeting; but this time, almost before the people 
had stopped singing " And bow-ow-ow," he called out " Bow- 
wow-wow " in that big grum voice of his. I suppose he had 
a bad dream. That was when I laughed. There was a little 
knothole in the floor, and I would have given anything to 
slip through it and get out of sight. 

Mother never punishes any of us on the Sabbath, but the 
first thing Monday morning she told me how bad I had been. 
She said she would n't whip me on my birthday, but I must 
spend the day so I should remember it. Then she pat a chair 
with the back to the window and gave me my knitting and 
said I must knit all day. 

Oh, I was so tired ! It would not have been quite so bad if 
the stitches had not been all alike, or if I could have taken 
just one peep out of the window sometimes ; but I had to knit 
till dinner time and then go right back to the chair and begin 
again. Everybody was at home washing, and there was not a 
sound on the common till about two hours after dinner. Then 
I heard some one come galloping up as fast as he could gal- 
lop. He stopped close to our house, and I heard people com- 
ing and talking to him. I could not tell what they said, and I 
did not dare to turn round to look out. Pretty soon I heard a 

234 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

strange voice call, " At noon, good friends, at noon to-mor- 
row," and the horse galloped away. 

In a little while the town crier began to ring his bell and 
call ont, " O hear ye, O hear ye ! At twelve of the clock a 
proclamation by the Governor of Xew York will be read on 
the common. O hear ye, O hear ye ! " 

I kept Avishing and wishing that father wonld come, and at 
last he came. "There's great news," he said; " bnt I cannot 
tell it with the little maid sitting there and looking so sorrow- 
ful." " I told her she must sit in that chair and knit all day 
for a punishment," said mother. Father thought for a moment, 
then he put his arm round me and swung me off the chair, 
^ext he swung the chair through the open door into the bed- 
room, and the knitting flcAV into the corner. " There, wife," 
he said, "if there's no chair she cannot sit in it; and if she 
cannot sit in it she cannot knit. And so, little maid, your pun- 
ishment is over — isn't it, wife? You were a very naughty 
girl, Judith," he said to me, and tried hard to look cross ; but 
I heard him whisper to mother, " They all sat looking like so 
many gravestones; but truly, wife, I was hard put to it to 
keep from smiling myself. If I had, would you have set me 
up in a chair Avith some knitting needles ? " " Oh, Hugh March," 
cried mother, " how is a woman to bring up her children as 
they should be brought up with such a man as you about ? " 
But really I don't think she was sorry. She is never angry 
with father, no matter what he does. 

236 



JUDITH MARCH OF NEWBURY 

Then he began to tell her about the stranger. " He has 
come from Albania," he said, " from Colonel Nicolls." " And 
who, pray, is Colonel Nicolls, and on which side of the ocean 
is Albania ? " asked mother. " Colonel Xicolls is the governor 




THE SPEXCER-PIERCE HOUSE, OLD NEWBURY 

of what used to be l^ew iSTetherland ; but now it belongs to 
the Duke of York, and so he has named New Amsterdam 
IN^ew York. Isn't that news enough for one day?" " Y^es," 
said mother, " bnt you have more. Y^ou 're no disseml3ler, 
Hugh; out with it." Then he told her there was a fertile 
country near New Y^ork which Colonel Nicolls had named 
Albania, and it was going to be open to settlers. JNIother did 
not look pleased, but all she said was, " Don't be hasty, Hugh." 

237 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

" N^o, wife," returned father, " I don't think I am hasty. When 
I once see a thing, I don't have to stand and wonder whether 
I really have seen it or not; that's all. And, indeed, wife, I 
don't think I 've done so badly. I came over with Stephen 
Kent as only a 'prentice lad with hardly a shilling to my 
name; and in fifteen years I had the handsomest wife in town, 
and she wore the handsomest silken hood and scarf." "And 
was presented to the court for doing it," mother added. Then 
father laughed one of his big hearty laughs and cried, "And 
didn't you have a fine time that day! I can see you now 
walking into court wearing the hood and the scarf, and hold- 
ing yourself as straight as a poplar. You held your head 
higher still when you walked out and the clerk was writing 
on the ]-ecords that your husband had enough property to 
have the right to give you some silken gewgaws if he chose." 

I suppose they had forgotten all about me, for suddenly 
they stopped talking, and "mother sent me away on an errand. 

I wish I was a boy so I could do things. The strange rider 
read the proclamation this morning. Father went and George 
went and even Hugh. Hugh is only eight and I am eleven; 
but he is a boy, so he could go to hear it, but I couldn't. 
Father told us all about it when it was over. Governor Nicolls 
has made some promises that he calls " concessions " to all the 
people that will come to settle on his land. I understood some 
of them. One is that any one may believe what he chooses 
about religion if he does not do anything to hurt other people. 

238 



JUDITH MARCH OF NEWBURY 

Another is that twelve men are to form a council to help the 
Governor make the laws. The Governor says that every 
settler who comes before next January and brings a musket, 
ten pounds of powder, twenty pounds of bullets, bandeliers 
and matches convenient, and provisions for himself for six 
months shall have one hundred and fifty acres of land. He 
does not have to pay anything for it for five years, and then 
only one penny an acre each year. 

Father w^ants to go, but mother does not want him to. I 
don't w^ant to go away from Xewbury, but George and Hugh 
are ready to go anywhere, and even little John brought in his 
kitten and said, " jNIe and Kitty going to Albania." 

My hand is so tired I cannot write any more. If we go we 
shall have to start before very long. 



XYIII 

A Second Letter from Judith March of Newhury 
to her cousin, Anna Maiiland, in England 

Neivbury, September 1, 1665. 

FATHER and George went, and we stayed here, mother and 
I and the two Uttle boys and the baby. Mother did not 
want father to go, and he promised that if he did not hke 
very, very mnch, he wonld come back in a year. It seems so 
strange and lonesome withont him. And I shall have to be so 
good for a whole year, for there 's no one now to get me out 
of my punishments when I am naughty. 

They went by boat. When a boat was coming this way 
early in the spring he sent us a long letter; and he sent 
another a little while ago by a man who was coming from 
^ew York to Boston. He says their land lies at the mouth 
of a river that empties into a bay. It is a little river, but 
it is so deep that vessels of thirty or fort}^ tons can come up 
in front of their doors. The Dutch call the bay the Achter 
Koll, which means bay after the great bay; but father says 
that freeborn Englishmen need not talk Dutch unless they 
choose, and they call it the After Cull. It cost twenty fathoms 

240 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

of cloth, two coats, two guns, two kettles, ten bars of lead, 
and four hundred fathoms of wampum. They built some little 
huts with clay squeezed in between the logs, and there they 
stayed all winter long. Father always laughs at things, and 
he wrote that there never was such a climate to suit the 
whims of all sorts of peoj^le, for the wind did not stay in the 
same quarter three days together. He said it was not so cold 
as Newbury, but that somehow it felt colder, and he had 
wished a good many times for his ow^n snug little house. 
Mother looked as pleased as could be when she read that, for 
she does not want to go to Albania. Father said he thought it 
was going to be a fine place for a man to get rich. It is so 
near Xew York that they can sail there easily and sell what 
they have to sell and buy whatever they want. " It w^ill be 
like going up to London," he wrote; "and surely we shall 
have enough to sell, for we can raise beans, potatoes, carrots, 
turnips, melons, and all other sorts of vegetables and fruit. 
As for peaches, the boughs fairly break down with them. The 
cranberries are like cherries, and would make much better 
tarts than either cherries or gooseberries — if only my hand- 
some wife w^ere here to make them. Tell the little maid," he 
added, " that she must learn to be as good a cook as her 
mother, so she can come to All)ania and make tarts ,for her 
father while her mother sits under the trees and eats straw- 
berries and cream." He says peoj^le tell him everything grows 
much faster there than in Massachusetts; that you can j^lant 

242 



JUDITH MARCH OF NEWBURY 

corn in May and harvest it in June or July. He drank some 
cider from a tree that, they told him, was only fonr years old, 
but bore enough apples this year to make four barrels of 
cider. He thinks that two men coming in September or Octo- 
ber could clear ground enough to raise twenty quarters of 
grain the following year. He believes that olives would grow 
there, and he is sure that silkworms would do well, for there 




TOPPAjy HOUSE, BUILT BY JACOB TOPPAN 1674 

are so many mulberry trees. Maybe some day. Cousin Anna, 
I can send you a silk gown from my own silkworms. What 
do you think of that ! 

The most interesting thing he wrote in that letter was about 
catching herring. The herring swim up the brooks into fresh 

243 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

water to spawn. He said that George and Abraham Toppan 
went out one morning and caught some in the Indian fashion, 
as they had no nets. They made a round pinfold two yards 
across and one foot high, with a gap for the fish to go in. 
Then they took two long birches, tied the tops together, went 
a stone's throw above the * pinfold, and dragged the birch 
boughs down stream. They drove so many fish into the pin- 
fold in half an hour that they had three bushels to carry home. 
Besides the herring, there are as many fish as there are here, 
he wrote, and oysters enough for all England. Sometimes a 
whale is caught in the great bay or even driven ashore in a 
storm. Then they can take large quantities of oil and bone 
and sell them in New York at a big price. Ko one is afraid 
of the Indians, for the Five Nations are friendly to New York 
and to Albania, or New Jersey, as father says we must call it 
now. 

He wrote that,«however, in his second letter, the one that 
came only a little while ago. There was so much in this that 
it would take all night to tell it. Father did not write it all at 
once ; he wrote the first part in July, and when mother read it 
she cried, " He '11 come back now, Judith, he '11 surely come." 
That part of the letter said that before Governor Nicolls gave 
them the right to the land, the Duke of York had sold Albania 
to Lord Berkeley and Sir George Carteret. Mother said that 
meant that Governor Nicolls had had no land to grant, and so 
the settlers had no right at all to the land that they had 

244 



JUDITH MARCH OF NEWBURY 

bought with their kettles and coats and handfuls of powder. 
She did not stop to read the rest of the letter; she jumped up 
and ran to the window that looks toward the water. " This 
letter Avas written in July," she cried, " and maybe he is 
already on the Avay. Perhaps he Avill be here for supper. 
We '11 have honey, and tarts made from the cherry preserve 
that your grandmother sent from England, and — " Then she 
saw the rest of the letter lying on the floor, and she began to 
read it. It said that when the ncAvs came about the duke's 
selling Albania Governor ^N^icolls came right to see them. 
" Don't give it up," he pleaded, " only stay here for a while. 
The duke cannot know what a beautiful country he is selling. 
I am going home at once, and I will beg of him not to throw 
away the garden of all America." 

They agreed to wait till they could hear what the duke 
said; but they found out very soon, for one morning they saw 
a ship coming into the bay and sailing straight for the After 
Cull Colony. They did not know what to do, but at last they 
all marched slowly down to the shore. The first one to land 
was a handsome young man with a hoe on his shoulder. 
" Good morning, sirs," he cried. " I am Philij) Carteret. My 
brother. Sir George Carteret, has bought this land of the 
Duke of York, and sent me here to be governor. I feared me 
greatly lest there might be nothing but wolves and panthers 
in my domain, and I 'm right heartily glad to find some of my 
own countrymen." Father said he bowed like the parlej'-voos, 

245 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

but he had a good honest Enghsh face, and he looked them 
straight in the eyes hke an EngHshman. '' I hoj^e yon will 
stay," the Governor went on, " and help me make a tine large 
colony, as good as any in America. I '11 promise for my part 
to give every man the rights of an Englishman, and he shall 
have whatever religion he believes true." 

Father said they did not know just what to say. They did 
not want to promise to stay thei-e, but the new Governor was 
so pleasant and so polite that they did not like to say they 
would not. Besides, they kept thinking of the richness of the 
soil and the New York markets, and the w^iales that might be 
thrown up on the shore. "And when a man is thinking of 
a creature as big as a w hale," father wrote, '" he has n't much 
room in his mind for even a handsome young governor." The 
Governor did not wait, however, to hear what they would say. 
By that time the thirty men and women who had come with 
him had landed, and he fell to introducing them to our people 
as if he was having the best time in his life. " She can weave, 
maybe fifty ells a day," he said of one woman; "and here's 
another," he went on, " Avho can spin like a spider, one hun- 
dred knots an hour, more or less. This man can tan leather 
for your shoes; that one can make your clothes; here is a 
blacksmith equal to Ynlcan ; and here 's the best ropemaker 
in the world. You'll give him room in the After Cull for a 
ropew^alk, will you not ? And, friends, we are so weary w ith 
the long voyage, will you not take us in among you and let 

246 



JUDITH MARCH OF NEWBURY 

us rest a little ? " Father said he looked so young and slender 
and tired that they all felt ashamed of g-iving him so poor a 
welcome. They had built four frame houses, and these they 
gave up to the Governor and his people, much as they hated 
their Frenchy Avays. He says the Governor and most of the 




ELIZABETH CASTLE, JERSEY, THE CARTERETS' STRONGHOLD 

people live on the Island of Jersey. They " talk French and 
bow French and walk French," but they are as true to the 
king as any of us; and they are so grateful and so anxious to 
help everybody that the old settlers cannot help liking them. 

The morning after they landed, the Governor called the old 
settlers together and told them he w^ould keep all the promises 
that Colonel Nicolls had made, and that he wanted to buy 
shares in their town association just as they themselves had 
done. '' We '11 have the best colony in the land," he said. 

247 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

^' After Cull is not half good enough name for it. Let us call 
it Elizabeth Town, in honor of one of the best women that 
ever lived,, my sister-in-law Elizabeth, the wife of Sir George 
Carteret." The duke himself had given a new name to the 
Province, and now it is Nova Csesarea, or New Jersey. The 
Governor told them that was because when Cromwell's men 
were fighting against King Charles I, fifteen years ago, Sir 
George Carteret, who was governor of the Island of Jersey, 
would not haul down the king's flag. He had to do it after a 
while, but his fortress was the last in the whole kingdom to 
yield. 

There, Cousin Anna, you asked me to tell you about New- 
bury, and I have written all this long letter about Elizabeth 
Town and New Jersey. I didn't mean to; but mother and I 
have read father's letters over and over so many times that 
I know them by heart, and when I begin to write I can't help 
writing them. Mother treats me now almost as if I were 
grown up and at least a hundred years older than on that 
wretched Sabbath day when I laughed in meeting. We talk 
and talk about father and George, whether they will want to 
stay there and have us come to them, or whether they will 
come home. I 'd like to go there, and even mother says she 
should hke to have " spring a month earher and autumn a 
month later " than in Newbury. I wonder which it will be. 



XIX 



A Letter written hy Timothy Holden of Penmyl- 
vania to his Cousin Henry in England 

Chester, 11th month, 5th day, 1683. 

INASMUCH as thou art my only living cousin, I take my pen 
in hand to send thee a word of cousinly greeting-. It is 
true that my remembrance of thee is more slender than it 
would have been if I had not left England at so early an age, 
but the bonds of relationship are strong, and I would gladly 
come into a closer acquaintance with thee. 

Father said he wished I would write thee a letter, and when 
I told him I did n't knoAv how to begin it, he said he would 
show me; so I wrote what comes before this just as he told 
me to. I asked him what I should write about, and he said, 
"About thy life here in Pennsylvania, about thy home, and 
thy young friend Tamaqua, and the coming of the noble Gov- 
ernor." It does n't seem as if there Avas much to Avrite about 
them. If I lived in London as thou dost, there would be some- 
thing to tell. Mother has told me about the streets and the 
Tower and the great stee^^le houses and the croAvds that are 
coming and going all the time. Don't I wish I could see them! 

249 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

There 's one thing- I Avant to see more than all the rest, and 
that is the Flying- Coach. I Avish I could ride in it just once. 
Mother says she thinks people must be thrown out of the 
coach and hurt or killed, and that no one ought to tempt 
Providence by trying to drive fifty-five miles in thirteen hours 
over the rocks and gullys and mudholes between London and 
Oxford. I should n't want to be killed, but I don't believe it 
would tempt Providence very much if I went only once just 
to see how it would seem. Hast thou ever been in the coach? 
How many horses does it have? Father says one needs six 
horses at least to make a journey in England or else his car- 
riage will be stuck fast in some mudhole. I suppose thou hast 
seen the king and the Duke of York drive out in state. That 
must be a splendid sight. Father says it is far more edifying 
to see our Governor being rowed down the Delaware to meet 
his councillors to decide what is for the truest good of his 
province and the service of God. Of course I like to see the 
Governor, but I 'd like to see the king, too. 

It must be glorious to live in London ; I mean it would be 
if they did n't put Friends in prison. It is five years ago that 
we came here, and I was just seven years old then, so I can't 
remember anything about the sights. Sometimes after I have 
gone to bed I shut my eyes and think hard, and then I can 
seem to see a rather dark little room with some people in it. 
One is talking or praying — I don't know which — and the 

others are all sitting as if they were in meeting. That must 

250 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 

have been the house we lived in. I can remember, too, tliat 
suddenly the doors were burst open, and some men caught 
hold of my father and some of the others. The men were 
rough and I was frightened. Father said something to them, 
and one of them replied, " Y^ou can't count three, I suppose?" 
and they laughed so loud th^t I was more afraid than ever. I 
was angry, too, for I knew how to count, and I thought they 
meant that my father did n't know how. I cried out, " My 
father can count. Thou art a bad man ; go away ! " ]M other 
said, " Hush, hush ! " but the men laughed louder than ever. 
They went away and took my father and two of the others with 
them. Of course I know now that the law would not let more 
than three meet together in a house to pray ; but I was very 
little then. I can't remember anything else until we were going 
on board the ship. I saw the black water on both sides of the 
plank and I was afraid. Smallpox broke out. The body of a 
man who had died was wrapped in canvas and dropped over- 
board. I thought that was veiy strange and dreadful. There 
was another little boy just as old as I, and we played together. 
One morning mother said, " Herbert is ill, and thou must not 
go near him." Pretty soon he died and was dropped overboard. 
I had not thought that they would do that to little boys, but 
only to grown folk, and I was frightened. '' AYill they ever do 
that to me? " I asked. " God must have His own when He calls 
for it," father said; " but He is good to all, and He will never 
forget to care for even a little child." I did not take the dis- 

251 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

ease; and it was not so very long before we left the ship and 
came on shore. All I can remember of the landing is that my 
father took me in his arms and got into a little boat. Then he 
set me down on the grass under a tree and said, " Thou must 
stay here till thy mother comes to thee. Don't thou be afraid. 
In this land we are free, so free that two or three may gather 
in His name if they will." 

That place w^as Chester, but we don't live there now; we 
live in Philadelphia. Father says that some day Philadeli3hia 
may be as large a city as London is; but of course when thou 
lives in London and sees so much that is grand, thou dost not 
care to hear about our little town. I just asked mother what I 
should write about next, and she said, " Write about the com- 
ing of that good and noble man, the proprietor, for Cousin 
Henry, and thy Uncle James, too, will be glad to hear of that, 
I am sure." 

Oh,Henr3%I know thouwouldst have liked to see him. Some- 
times I think it would be good to be a man; but when he 
came, I was glad that Tamaqua and I were just boys, for we 
could slip in anywhere and see everything. Father says I 
have sometimes an undue curiosity; but surely it cannot be 
very wrong to wish to see a good man. Dost thou think it is? 
I forget that thou art but little older than I. It is so far to 
London that it seems as if thou must be grown up. Do people 
grow faster in cities, I wondei- ? Father w^ould say that was 
untimely levity when I was wa-iting about the Governor; but 

252 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 

I am glad thon art just a boy like me and Tamaqiia. Tamaqua 
is an Indian boy, and he stays with us some of the time. I like 
him better than any other boy. We have played together ever 
since I was little. He will give me anything that he has. He 




TAMAQUA 

is n't old enough to go hunting, but we fish together and set 
traps. Dost thou know how we catch w^ild turkeys '? We make 
a square pen covered at the top. There is a door held up by 
a string fastened to a catch. The catch is on the ground, but 
it is covered w^ith chaff and a little grain. The turkeys go in 

253 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

and begin to scratch for the grain. Some one among them is 
snre to hit the catch, and then the door shuts tight. AVe canght 
one once that weighed forty-six pounds. Tamaqua showed 
me how to make a hook of a bird's claw^ or of the bone of a 
fish, and how to make a fish fine of Indian hemp. We twist it 
and roll it and it makes as good a line as those that come from 
England. We make fish nets too. Tamaqua knows how to do 
almost everything. He can do a good deal more than the Eng- 
lish boys. I can run faster than he, but he can paddle a canoe 
faster than I. We paddled eighteen miles one day. I '11 tell 
thee about it by and by. The Indians have two kinds of 
canoes. They make some out of birch bark and some out of 
the trunks of trees. They bring furs to the white people and 
buy axes now, but they used to cut down trees by burning 
them. They built a big fire around the root of the tree they 
wanted. Then they tied Avet rags or wet moss to the end of a 
pole and kept the trunk sopping wet so the fire could n't burn 
too high. By and by the tree fell. Then the}^ built a line of 
fires along the trunk that burnt down into it. Of course they 
kept it wet where they did not want it to burn. When the 
fires had burned deep enough they jDut them out. Then the}^ 
took shells or sharp pieces of flint and scraped it out smooth. 
For some of the cutting they used a sort of hatchet that they 
made of stone. They find a piece of hard stone shaped as 
nearly as can be like the iron part of an axe. They rub it on 
another stone till one edge is sharp. Then they notch the 

254 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 

other edge, the blunt one, in two places. They put the stone 
into a split stick for a handle, and wind it round and round 
with sinews till it is firm and strong. I have seen ever so 
many, and Tamaqua's father has given me one for my own. 
He is a big brave. When I go to his wigwam he is very good 
to me. We have venison and hominy and fish and dried ber- 
ries and turkey and partridges and all sorts of good things. 




INDIANS BUILDING A CANOE 



and I am sure they taste better there than anywhere else. 
There is a fire in the centre of the wigwam, and after we have 
eaten w^e sit down by it and Tamaqua's father tells us stories. 
He has been almost everywhere, away up the river farther 
than any of our wdiite men, and he has been in New Y^ork, too. 

265 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

There are windmills there, and when he saw the first one he 
was afraid, because he thought there were spirits within it 
making the sails turn around. He says that when the Indians 
first saw a big ship coming, they thought it must be the canoe 
of their Manito, or god. I can talk Indian as well as I can 
English. " Issimus " means brother, and I call Tamaqua my 
issimus. The Indians can't say Quakers very well; they call 
us QueTcels ; and when they want to say English, they call it 
Yengees. Father says he believes they are descended from 
the ten lost tribes of Israel, and that the Governor thinks so, 
too. That's in the Old Testament; but thou lives in London 
and of course thou knows about it. Whether he is a lost tribe 
or not, Tamaqua is the best boy here, and I am sure thou 
wouldst say so if thou couldst see him. 

Mother has been reading this and she says, " Thou didst 
begin to write of the coming of the Governor. Dost thou 
think it is courtesy to leave him ^nd write about a little Indian 
boy and the way his people catch turkeys and make canoes? " 
I told her the Governor had said we must " be tender of 
offending the Indians," and I did n't believe he 'd care one 
bit. Then she said, " Ah, Timothy, thy father would say thou 
wert given to levity. Thou must conform." I said I was con- 
forming to what William Penn said, and wasn't he a good 
man to follow? She smiled a little and said, " Thy father 
must teach thee. Thou art far beyond my instruction." I told 
her I did n't know where to begin to write about the coming 

256 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 



of the Governor, and she said I might begin with the first that 
we heard of his plans. 

The first that I heard was when a ship came in from Eng- 
land, and one of the Friends who was on board said he had 
heard that William Penn was trying to plan a way to help 
the Friends; that he was very 
rich; that the king and the 
Dnke of Y'ork liked him, and 
they wonld do a good deal to 
please him. Before long an- 
other ship came, and then we 
heard that he had asked the 
king to give him a piece of 
land in America instead of a 
great snm of money that onght 
to have been paid to his father, 
and he was going to fonnd a 
settlement where every one 
conld Avorship God in the way 
that he thonght right. 

When that word came, Chester mnst have been jnst like 
London, I am snre, for people talked all day long. I asked 
father to tell me about Wifliam Penn, and he said, "• He is an 
npright man in England, who prefers to snffer affliction with 
the people of God than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a 
season." Then I asked mother, and she said he was the son 

257 




CHARLES II 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

of a rich man, a great admiral. Of course I knew he was a 
Friend; but she told me he might have had high rank at 
court, only he would rather stand by the truth. She said he 
had been thrown into prison; but that when he was sent there 
he carried his pen and paper with him, and then he wrote such 
strong jjamphlets about the truth that his enemies wished he 
was free. " And will the king let him come into his palace?" 
I asked, and mother said, " Yes, for the truth is mighty and 
shall prevail. The king is even pleased when he comes, for 
the Lord has bestowed upon him the grace to Avin many 
hearts. The king and the Duke of York are even Avont to 
jest merrily and familiarl}- with him. One of the Friends on 
the vessel that has just come told me there is a stor}^ in Eng- 
land that when he was at the palace one day the king took 
off his hat, made a low bow to him, and stood with his hat in 
his hand. Friend Penn asked, ' Why dost thou uncover thy 
head, friend Charles V ' The king laughed and said, ' Wher- 
ever I go, I notice that onty one man has his head covered.'" 

Everybody talked about Friend Penn and his land. We all 
hoped that Chester was within his grant, but no one knew 
surely, and no one knew when he Avas coming. It was not 
long before another boat anived; and then ever3'body looked 
sober, for Friends on l)oard said the land had not been given 
him yet, and some of them feared it would not l)e. I Avent to 
Tamaqua's that da3% and I told him about William Penn. His 
father listened to everj' Avord. I asked if he thought the king 

258 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 

would give him the money or the land. He said, " Wampum 
here, land there; give land. He will come." I told father 
afterwards, and he said that was what he thought, too, and 
that he wasn't going to build our house till we were sure 



-y-i^ 






^* i«t&i 




>4^ * 






LUG HOUSE 



whether the grant would take in Chester. He had built a little 
log house at first, but of course he wanted to live on William 
Penn's grant. So did -every one else in Chester; and when- 
ever a ship came in we all hurried to the shore to ask what 
news there was. It must have been as much as two 3 ears after 
we heard of it first that William Markham came. He is a 
cousin of the Governor's, and every one liked him. He said 
the grant of land had been made and the parchment sealed 

259 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

with the king's seal. Didst thou ever see the seal, Henry? 
I 've seen the belts of wampum that the Lidians give when 
they make a treaty. There ! mother is asking, " Hast thou 
brought over the Governor yet, Timothy ? Is n't thy boat a 
little sloAV? " I told her I was only delaying a minute to be 
courteous to his cousin. She said, " Don't forget to tell Henry 
how glad we were to see him," and I won't. Father says that 
for a week, whenever two Friends met, one of them would be 
sure to say, " The hand of the Lord is in it." He said once 
that in England, when the world's people are glad, they ring 
bells and fire guns and flaunt banners and march idly up and 
down the streets, but that Friends rejoice more wisely and 
reasonably. 

Until William Penn comes William Markham is to be gov- 
ernor. He told everybod}^ what an immense tract of land the 
king had granted. The Duke of York had given up a big 
piece of his, too, so William Penn's peoi:)le could get to the 
ocean easily. The whole grant is to be called Pennsylvania. 
Wilham Penn wanted it to be called NTew Wales, and when 
the king would n't have that, he said, " Then let us call it 
Sylvania, woodland.'''' " Pennsylvania," said the king. Friend 
Penn didn't like that: he thought people would say he was 
trying to exalt himself; but the king said no, it was in honor 
of Admiral Penn, his father. 

Friend Markham had brought a letter from the proprietor 
to be read to the colonists who were already on his land, 

260 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 

and he read it to us the first thing. It said that he hoped 
we slionld n't be troubled because he was governor, for we 
should make whatever laws we thought right, and he should 
be glad to agree to anything that would make us safe and 
happy. It w^as a good, kindhearted letter, father said, and he 
was much delighted. In a little while another letter came, and 
this one was to the Indians. He told them that the king had 
given him a great province in America and he hoped to enjoy 
it with their love and consent. There Avere some presents with 
it to give them. I asked father what would haj^pen if the 
Indians should say they did n't want him to come. He said 
they could n't help being pleased with so just and kind a mes- 
sage. " But if they want their land for themselves," I said, 
" and don't care to sell it to even such a very good man, 
would Friend Penn give it up, and should we have to go back 
to England where they would put us in prison? " Father said 
that could never be. I don't see why, but of course he knows. 
Onr people at Chester liked William Markham, and they 
liked the commissioners, too. The Governor could n't come 
over for some time, but the three commissioners that he sent 
began to buy land of the Indians. N'obody knew just where 
the city was to be. Father asked one of the commissioners 
what sort of place they were looking for. He said the pro- 
prietor w^anted them to find a site where the banks were high 
and dry and where a good deep river flowed into the Dela- 
ware, so boats could sail far up into the country. " And 

261 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

would not Chester suit thy instructions?" father asked. 
'' Chester is a very good pkice," the commissioner replied, 
" but we must look all about." The very next day the com- 
missioners went farther up the river. Tamaqua and some of 
the other Indian boys came to see me, and I asked them if 
there was any place up stream that had higher banks and a 
bigger creek. They said yes, there was; that at Coaquannock, 
a little farther up, a big ship could sail close to the shore and 
moor to the trees. I told father about it, but all he said w^as 
that we would Avait and see what the commissioners decided. 
Ever so many others were waiting, for some more ships had 
come over. One of them was frozen in close to Chester, and 
the people had to stay there all winter. 

The commissioners went up and down the river, and at last 
they chose Coaquannock as the place for the city. Some of the 
people went there right away, but father said they couldn't be 
sure just where their lots would be, and he thought it would 
have been better to Avait until the Governor had come. 

I thought the Governor never would come, but when he did 
Tamaqua and I Avent to meet him without knoAving it. We 
Avent doAvn the ri\'er in his canoe farther than Ave had CA'er been 
before. We Avere just turning to come home w4ien Tamaqua 
said, " Look, see the ship ! " and, sure enough, away doAvn the 
river there was a ship coming up stream as fast as ever it could. 
" Let 's go and meet it," said Tamaqua, and Ave paddled Avith 
all our might. Pretty soon the ship went sloAver, and it turned 

262 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

toward the bank. We knew then it wasn't just coming to 
Chester to bring some colonists. I felt almost sure that AVil- 
liam Penn was on board and that he w^as going to stop wiiere 
the Swedes live. I tell thee, Cousin Henry, we paddled then 
as hard as ever we could. Just think of it! the commissioners 
and William Markham and father and the other settlers were 
waiting at Chester, and we two boys were the only ones that 
knew anything about what was happening, — I mean the onl}^ 
ones from Chester. We saw people on the bank and some log- 
houses a little way back, and then we were sure that it was N^ew- 
castle. The Swedes and ever so many Indians were there. The 
Swedes wore leather vests and breeches and shaggy woollen 
coats. They had queer little caps, with a sort of flap in front. 
The women had homespun skirts and jackets made of skins. 
They were all shouting something in Swedish. It sounded so 
much like " Welcome ! " that I think it must have been that. 
A boat put off from the ship, and then the people shouted 
more than ever. We landed and hurried up the bank so as to 
see everything. 

It really Avas the Governor himself. He jumped out of the 
boat as if he liked to jump. He ran up the bank as easily as I 
could, and then he began to talk to the people and shake hands 
with them. Some of the men that had come from the boat 
were kind of jDrim, but he was n't, not the least bit. There was 
some one to explain to the Swedes what he was saying, but he 
didn't bother much about that ; he talked right on to one and 

264 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 

then to another, and acted as if he was glad all through to see 
them. They were all pleased. He talked to the Indians just as 
he did to the Swedes, as free and easy as could be. I whispered 
to Tamaqua and asked if he liked him. He said, " Y"es, I do. 
He stands up straight, and looks as if he was n't afraid of any 
one." 

Just then the Governor turned and saw us Ijoys. " How 
dost thou doV" he asked. "Dost thou hve here? Thou art an 
English boy, if I mistake not. What is thy name? " " Timothy 
Holden," I replied. "And has thy father the same name?" 
I said he had. Then the Governor said, " I know him. He has 
borne witness to the truth in prison and out of prison. Thou 
art the son of a good and faithful man. And who is this with 
thee?" "That's Tamaqua," I said. "How dost thou do, Ta- 
maqua," he asked. Of course Tamaqua talks just as I do, and 
so he answered. " I am well, and I am glad to see thee." 
The Governor looked pleased. " Thee! " he said. " And so we 
have a little Indian Quaker. That is good. Did you two come 
from Chester?" We told him about our paddling down, and 
he said, " It must be quite a long distance. Be here when the 
ship sails, and I will take you back with me." 

Tamaqua and I looked at each other. Just think, Cousin 
Henry, we two boys were going up on the Governor's vessel ! 
Then I remembered that when I told mother, she would ask 
the very first thing, "Didst thou thank him properly?" I 
thanked him, but I don't know what I said, I was so glad 

265 



LETTERS FROxM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

and so proud. Father says that I must not be proud of things 
that are not of my own merit; but he does n't want me to be 
proud even when they are of my own merit. Anyhow, I think 
I must have been proud this time, for I thought of the other 
boys at Chester, and I knew they would ahnost give their heads 
to sail up with the Governor. 

I was so pleased that I nearly forgot to watch what was 
going on till I saw a man go up to William Penn with a piece 
of turf and a twig and a handful of sand that must have come 
from the river bank. Then I remembered father's telling me 
that Newcastle was on the land of the Duke of York. He had 
given it to William Penn, but it would n't really be his till he 
had taken seisin, or possession, with twig and turf. Tamaqua 
and I slipped in between the people and got close to the Gov- 
ernor. He had in his hand a piece of parchment with a big 
seal on it. The man gave him the turf and twig and sand, and 
said, " Here I deliver you seisin and possession in the name of 
all the lands contained in this deed." Then the people shouted 
and shouted. 

After this was done, the Governor and some of the other 
men sat down to talk together, and Tamaqua and I went off to 
see what sort of houses the Swedes lived in. They were not 
half so good as ours in Chester, and the Swedes have been in 
Newcastle ever so many years. They were made of logs like 
some of ours, but they had only one room, and the doors were 
so low that I am sure father would bump his head if he tried 

266 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

to go in. Their windows did not have any glass. There was 
just a hole with a board that would slide before it. 

We did not dare to stay long, we were so afraid the ship 
would sail. The Indians were pleased as could be that Tamaqua 
was going up the river on the Governor's boat, and one of 
them promised to bring the canoe to Chester the next da}'. 
The Governor started to walk down to tlie shore, and we fol- 
lowed, but we kept a long way back, for we were afraid he 
might have forgotten about our going with him. He had n't, 
though, and all of a sudden he turned around and asked, 
" Where 's my escort? Where are Timothy Holden and my 
Indian Quaker boy?" We hurried after him then and went 
on board the vessel. I had thought it was a fine thing to paddle 
all the way to INewcastle by ourselves, but it was much better to 
sail back with the Governor. Before we had been on board very 
long he came to us and asked how old we were. Then he said : 
."I have a little boy at home in England. His name is Springett. 
He is not quite so old as you, but when he comes here I hojDC 
you won't think he is too young to play with such big boys. 
Wast thou sorry, Tamaqua, when thou knew est I w as coming? " 
" No, I was glad," Tamaqua said. The Governor looked pleased, 
and then he asked me if I an as glad or sorry. I said I was very 
glad, and before I thought I was telling him about our celebra- 
tion out in the woods. Father told us, as I WTote thee just now , 
that in England, when the world's people were ver}^ much 
pleased, they rang bells and fired guns, and hung out flags, and 

268 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 

walked up and down the streets in line. Tamaqua and I did n't 
feel as if w^e had done anything at all just to say that we were 
glad, and we thought it wouldn't be very wicked to celebrate 
for once as the world's people do. So we went away off in the 
woods where we were sure no one w^ould see us, and then we 
celebrated. I had a flag that a sailor on one of the ships had 
given me, and we had taken one of the cow bells. We had n't 
any gun, but we shot some arrows, and then we marched up 
and down, waving the flag and ringing the bell. Is that at all 
the way the world's people in London do when they are glad? 
Governor Penn didn't think it was the least bit wicked. He 
said he knew his little Springett would have liked to be with 
us, and he was very glad indeed that we were pleased at his 
coming. Then some one called him away, and he did not speak 
to us again. 

It did not seem any time at all before we were at Chester. 
The Indians had carried word that the Governor was coming, 
and the people were all ready to meet him — and us. I had 
thought it was a pretty fine thing to come up the river with 
the Governor, but it was n't anything at all compared to 
going ashore with him. Of course we did n't go in the same 
boat. The Governor and some of the other men went first; 
but when we did go the people on the shore all looked at 
us, and w^e knew they were w^ondering how we came on the 
Governor's ship. Some of them asked us, but all we said was 
that he invited us. Father and mother were there. Father had 

269 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

to go to Robert Wade's house to help receive the Governor. 
He said, '' I shall ask thee to tell me about this later." 

Tamaqua and I went home with mother. AVe told her all about 
it. She looked as pleased as could be, but she said, "Art thou 
very sure that thou wast not in the least bold? " " Yes, I am 
sure," I answered. " AYe did n't say one word, and we never 
thought of doing such a thing as coming up in the ship, did 
we, Tamaqua? " Tamaqua said " ]Sro," and I guess mother 
thought it was all right. At any rate she gave us a splendid 
supper. I don't believe the Governor had a better one. We 
had biscuit and butter and honey and apple-pie and chocolate, 
I was n't at all afraid that father would blame me, for he alwaj's 
thinks the same as mother. I told him about it, and when 
mother asked, " Thou dost not think Timothy has been in 
fault, dost thou?" he said. "Xo, I do not see that he has done 
aught that is wrong. It was a great kindness in the Governor. 
Thou mast not be proud of it, Timothy. Remember that it was 
not because it was thou, but because it was a boy, and William 
Penn has a boy of his own. It is no merit of thine that thou 
art a boy, and thou must never be proud of what comes not 
from thine own merit." Dost thou ever feel proud, Cousin 
Henry? Father would sa}^ I was not heartily conformed to 
the truth, but I 'd like to feel a little proud once just to see 
how it would seem, — I mean proud of something so great that 
nobodj^ could say I ought not to. No one will read this, and 
I am going to say the rest of it just for thee, not even for 

270 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 

Uncle James. That night I was so tired that I went to sleep 
on the floor in front of the fireplace. When father began to 
cover the fire I half woke up, and I heard him sa}", " Y^es, Han- 
nah, he is honest and manly, and it seems to me small wonder 
that the Governor should have felt a drawing toward him." 
Mother laughed a little and said, "And art thou sure, Timothy, 
that no bit of worldly pride hath made its way into tJnj heart?" 
Father only said, ''Hannah, dost thou not think it time honest 
folk were abed? " Dost thou suppose he could have meant me? 
If I was certain that he did, I should know just how it felt to 
be proud, for I W rather be called honest and manly by my 
father than by any one else. 

AVhile I was writing that, mother asked, " Hast thou landed 
the Governor yet, my son? " When I told her I had him only 
as far as Chester, she said I'd better say farewell, and send this 
letter by the ship that sails for England on the morrow. " Thou 
canst write again soon," she said, " and begin at the place 
where thou left off. Stick a pin in thy memory, and see thou 
stick it in firmly, for thy father hath some great news to tell 
thee." 

Therefore I say farewell to thee. Cousin Henry. 

P. S. Thou canst not guess how I wish the great news was 
that I was coming to visit thee in England or that thou wast 
coming to visit me at Chester. 



XX 



A Second Letter from Timothy Holden to his 

Cousin Henri/ 



Philadelphia in Pennsylvania, 
8th Month, 3d Day, 1684. 

IEEMEMBER that wheii I sent thee my other letter mother 
had just told me I was to hear some great news. This 
is what it was : that we were to go away from Chester and 
live in the Governor's town of Philadelphia. I was glad and so 
were mother and father. Tamaqna was glad, too, for he could 
come to Philadelphia easier than to Chester. He stayed with 
me a week after the Governor came, and when the Governor 
went to see the place that the commissioners had chosen for 
his town we went with him; I mean we went a long while 
before him, for it is fourteen miles up stream, and we had 
heard that he would have six men to row him, so of course he 
could go a good deal faster than we. 

We did n't know just where he would land, but we went 
past the mouth of the Schuylkill Piver and on to where a little 
creek cuts through the high bank. There were so many peo- 
ple on the shore that we knew he was coming there. Friend 

272 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 

George Guest was building a house near the creek. He was 
at the shore, and the men who were working on his house were 
hurrying down just as we came in sight. More were coming, 
and up the river we could see Indians paddhng down in their 
canoes. When the Governor came, the people all went up 
close to him, and we went, too. One of the commissioners 
asked him. " Friend Penn, dost thou approve of our choice of 
a site for thy city? " "Most assuredly I do," he said. " The 
river seems to be of a goodly depth and the banks are high 
and dry. The air is like the best air of England. It is an ideal 
spot for a green country town that may never be burned and 
may always be wholesome." " He likes it," Tamaqua whis- 
pered. "Will he come here to live? " "I hope so," I wdiispered 
back, " for I want to see Springett. I wonder if he is afraid 
of his father because he is such a great man and goes to see 
the king." " I 'm not afraid of my father," Tamaqua said, 
" and he can shoot better than any other brave in our tribe." 
Then we heard the Governor talking to some of the people 
around him. " This is an excellent place for a landing," he 
said. " The creek is clean and has a low, sandy beach. We 
will mark it on the plan of the city for a public landing 
place." 

He seemed glad to see everybody, whether they were white 
or red. The young braves came near him just as the English 
did; but the older ones sat on the ground a little way off and 
watched everything that he did. " Why don't they come nearer, 

273 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

like the others?" I asked Tamaqua. "Don't they hke the 
Governor? " "■ The young men may do as they will," he said; 
" but the older braves do not think it well to press forward to 
meet a stranger miless he has come to their wigwams to ask 
for food or a j^lace to sleep." 

The Governor sees everything, and it was not long before 
he noticed that some of the Indians had not been near him. 
He went straight np to them and said, " I have come to be 
your friend and to live in love and peace with you." The 
interpreter told them what he had said, and they gave the 
kind of grunt that they do when they are pleased. The In- 
dians stayed all day, and the Governor acted as if he had 
always known them and lived with them. Some of the streets 
had been marked out, and when he went about to see them 
he invited the Indians to go too. He asked them a good many 
questions about the different kinds of trees, how long the 
creek was, and whether it was much smaller in the summer. 
He wanted to know, too, about the fishing, what kind of fish 
they caught, and whether they used lines or nets. By and by, 
when they sat down on the ground to eat the hominy and 
roasted acorns that they had brought with them, he sat down, 
too; and when they offered him some of the food, he took it 
and ate it as if it tasted good. I thought father would say it 
looked bold if we Avent very near, so I could n't hear what he 
said to them, but it must have been something about their 
games, for all of a sudden some of them got up and began to 

274 




^:m<^; 




LETTERS FROxM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

leap and run. The Governor sat and watched them. When 
they had shown him what they could do, he got up as gravely 
as if he was in First Day meeting, and made some leaps that 
were higher than any of theirs. The Indians grunted, and 
Tamaqua said, '' They like him because he plays their play 
and beats them. They like him, too, because he is sober and 
is n't always trying to smile to them." 

It was the best day I ever had except the one at NTewcastle. 
Father had come up with the Governor, and after a while he 
showed us where our lot Avas. He said he should begin on the 
house right away, and he had some men engaged to help him. 
He told us how the Governor had planned the town. The 
streets were all to be straight. Some of them run north and 
south and the others east and west. About where he thinks 
the middle of the town will be, he is going to make two streets 
cross that are wider than the others. That is Centre Square, 
and it is where the state-house and market-house and the chief 
meeting-house will stand. Thou canst not guess how strange 
it seemed when father pointed away off into the woods and 
said the state-house would be over there. 

Of course we went home that night, but it was not long 
before we came to Philadelphia to live. Our house was one of 
the first that was finished, for ever since father first heard 
of the Governor's grant, he had been thinking of going to 
Philadelphia. He had a good deal of the timber ready and he 
bought more of the Swedes. In just a little while we could 

276 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 

use one room, or rather two rooms, for there was a Httle loft 
over it where I slept, and Tamaqua, too, whenever he was 
with me. 

Tamaqua and I had such good times when we were build- 
ing. There were a good many things that Ave could do to help 








TAMAQUA HUNTING 



the men, of course; but when there Avas nothing for us to do 
at the house Ave used to go doAvn to the creek fishing, or out 
to the Duck Pond to get AAild ducks. The Duck Pond is 
about a quarter of a mile from the river. It is a big shalloAv 

277 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

pond half full of spatterdocks. The ducks and geese like the 
place, and so many come that anybody can shoot them. I wish 
father would let me take his gun, but he says I am not old 
enough. Tamaqua has taught me how to use a bow and arrow, 
however, and I hardly ever miss. Mother calls the Duck Pond 
our market, and when we come back she asks, " Well, boys, 
what have you brought me from the market to-day ? " That 
is n't the only market we have, though, for the Swedes and the 
Lidians bring in something to sell almost every morning. Dost 
thou like venison, Cousin Henry ? Father says only rich people 
can have it in England, and that even on his own land no one 
is allowed to kill a deer unless he owns land enouo-h to brinof 
him in one hundred pounds a year. Here in America any one 
may go into the woods and shoot as many as he likes; but we 
often buy them of the Indians, and we never pay more than 
two shillings apiece. The Lidians kill them for the skins and 
leave the flesh in the woods unless they think they can sell it 
to us. We can get turkeys that weigh thirty pounds for one 
shilling. There are plenty of wild swans, and there are oj^sters 
six inches long. We have nuts and apples and cherries and 
pears, and we have so many peaches that the hogs get tired 
of eating them. There are melons and wild grapes and I don't 
know what else. I don't mean that we have all these things 
at the same time; but if thou wilt only come and visit me for 
a year thou shalt have them all and as many of them as thou 
wilt. Mother knows how to make all sorts of srood things. 

O CD 

278 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 

Thou ought to have some of her pop-robins. They are made 
of flour and eggs and things and dropped into boihng milk. 
Tamaqua hkes them as well as I do, and all the Indians seem 
to like whatever we have. The Indians are very good to us. 
They often bring us presents. The boys come to play with 
me, and when I have work to do they help me. I like them 
all, but I like Tamaqua best; he is my issimus, thou knowest. 
Of course we give the boys good things to eat, and father and 
the other men make the braves presents; but they are very 
kind even when they know they will not be paid. There 's a 
poor woman here alone with nine children. Her husband died 
on the ship coming over. The white people built her a cave 
— I '11 tell thee about the caves by and by — and the Indians 
were as kind as they could be. Some of them came every day 
and brought her venison or turkey or fish or partridges, and 
when she tried to pay them they would n't let her. 

I don't really wonder that the Indians are good to us, for 
the Governor is so good to them. He does everything he can 
to make them understand that he likes them and wants to 
be a good neighbor. He asked them to meet him one day 
at Shackamaxon so they could make a treaty of friendship. 
Shackamaxon is a little way above the city. It is one of the 
Indians' old council grounds. In the summer we boys often 
go there swimming. We went there that day thou mayst be 
sure, for we wanted to see everything that was done. I don't 
believe the Governor would call it undue curiosity. Anyhow, 

279 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

he looked as pleasant as could be when he saw Tamaqna and 
me sitting on the ground a little back of the half circles of 
braves. Tamaqua says Indians don't like to make treaties in 
houses, but out of doors. More of them came than I ever saw 
together before. When Governor Penn came the commis- 
sioners were with him and some of the other men. My father 
was there, too. They brought axes and knives and scissors 
and beads and kettles and shirts and caps and hoes and all the 
other things that Indians like. The Governor wore a sash 
of blue silk network. He always wears handsome clothes 
when he goes to the council. I asked father if that was 
because he was proud. He said no, but that it would not be 
courteous to the people for him to go to the council meanly 
clothed. I 'd like to be a governor some day. He did n't 
smile, but held his head up high and looked very dignified. 
If I held my head so, I think father would say I must not be 
proud. The Governor stopped under a great elm tree. The 
presents were spread out, and then the biggest chief came 
forward and laid doAvn his bow and arrows. He put a sort of 
crown or wreath on his head with a little horn in the front 
and sat down. (Tamaqua says the horn means that he is a 
powerful king, but that he w^ants peace.) The braves all laid 
down their weapons and sat down in a half circle behind him. 
The older ones were nearest and the young men were back of 
them. Then the Governor talked to them. I can't remember 
half that he said, but I know he told them that the Great 

280 







PEXXS TREATY WITH THE IXDIAXS 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 



Spirit knew he wanted to live in peace with them and be their 
true friend. He had a parchment with him that he read to 
them. It told what the white men and the Indians were to do 
to help each other and not be a trouble to each other. The 
Indians listened to every word, and whenever he stopped they 
grunted, as they do Avhen they are pleased. When he was 
through reading he gave them the presents he had brought. 
He told them that they were of the same flesh and blood as 
he, and that Indians and white men must be the same as if they 
\ were one man's body divided 

into two parts. I wish thou 
couldst have seen the In- 
dians, Cousin Henry. They 
sat as still as if they were so 
many stones. I don't believe 
they even winked. When the 
Governor was through, the 
chiefs talked together a little, 
then one of them walked up 
to him and took his hand and 
said, "My king has bidden 
me to tell you what is in his 
mind." There Avas ever so much more that I have forgotten, 
but at last he said, " We will live in love with William Penn 
and his children as long as the sun and moon shall endure." 
The big chief gave the Governor a wampum belt. We could n't 

282 





WAMPUIM 




PEXN'S WAISIPUM 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 

see it very well then, but Tamaqua and I saw it one day a 
good while afterwards. It was woven of blue and white beads, 
and in the middle is a picture, made in beads, of two men 
holding each other's hand. One is meant for a white man and 
the other for an Indian. Tamaqua said, " We '11 be friends 
like that, Timothy." I rather think we will. 

The Governor is just as good to every one else as he is to 
the Indians. He gave more than a thousand acres of land to 
Friend George Fox, the founder of our society ; and he gave 
a house lot in the town to Friend Key's little John, the first 
baby born in Philadelphia. The baby was born in one of the 
cave houses, and now I '11 tell thee about them. Peoj^le are 
living in some of them still. Thou sees, people came here so 
fast that there was not any place for them ; a ship came every 
three or four weeks full of people from Holland and Germany 
as well as England, Ireland, and Wales. The surveyors worked 
as hard as ever they could, and sometimes we boys carried the 
chain for them; but they couldn't mark out the houselots as 
fast as they were wanted; and so even the men who had 
brought material for their houses from England could n't 
begin to build. The Governor does not mean to have any 
houselots along the river bank, and that is where the caves 
were made. Tamaqua and I made one to play in. It was just 
like those that some of the other people made. We dug down 
about three feet at the edge of the bank. We drove stakes 
around the sides and twisted in twigs. Then we piled up sods 

283 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

close to the stakes. For a roof we laid poles side by side and 
put rushes and big pieces of bark upon them. Then we laid 
sods over it all. After the grass had grown on the sods no 
one would have thought anything was there except a little 
hillock, if it had not been for the chimney. We built that of 
stones plastered together with clay mixed with grass. Most 
of the caves were larger than ours, and some of them were 
built of thicker poles and had good strong roofs; but ours 
was good to play in, and one man thought it good enough to 
live in. I '11 tell thee about him by and by. 

Of course every one was in a hurry to get into his own 
house ; and just as soon as a lot was marked off the owner 
went to work to build. Eighty houses have been built already. 
Some are made of wood, some of brick, and a few of stone. 
We can tell when it is going to rain by looking at the stone 
houses. The lime that was used in them was made of oyster 
shells, and two or thi'ee days before a storm the w\alls are 
dripping with water. One house is built right into a little hill. 
There is a door at each end. One leads into the living-room, 
the other into the loft; but there is no need of steps, for it 
opens right out on the side hill. So many people were build- 
ing that a bell was rung every day when it was time for the 
laborers to go to woi'k or to their meals. The men take turns 
in going around every night at nine o'clock, and no one is 
allowed to stay any later at an inn unless he lodges there. The 
Governor's house is the handsomest one I ever saw. He has one 

284 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 

in the town, but I mean the house farther up the river. He calls 
it Pennsbury. He had Friend Markham choose a place for it 
and begin it before he himself came. He told father he wanted 
to bring up his children in the country. Tamaqua and I go 
to see the house every little while. It is sixty feet long. I 
wonder if a palace is any bigger. There is a great door in 




LETITIA COTTAGE, PE^^s'S FIRST HOUSE IN PHILADELPHIA 



front with beautiful columns. The top of each one is carved 
into a grapevine and a bunch of grapes. He brought those 
from England. The I'ooms are all high and big, and there is 
one that I really believe would hold a hundred people. That 
is where he means to have his councils and meet the Indians. 
There is going to be a stable large enough for twelve horses, 

285 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

and there '11 be a dairy. I heard him telling Friend Markham 
where he wanted them to stand. I thought his wife was a 
great lady, but when he was talking about the dairy he said, 
"A good dairy my wife will love." There is an orchaixl of 
apple and peach trees already set out. He is going to have a 
large garden sloping down to the river. He says he shall send 
over seeds for it; and he wants wild flowers brought from the 
woods to put into it. I wonder if father would say I was 
unduly curious about the house. Anyhow, he said one day 
that we ought to know about the lives of good and worthy 
men, so we may admire and imitate them ; and I 'm doing it. 
I don't see why we need to wait till people are dead and in 
books before we admire them. The Governor is surely a good 
man. Everybody likes him. The Indians call him Onas. That 
means a quill or feather. He has learned their language so he 
can talk with them. He does n't spend all his time watching 
his own house, but he goes about and heljDS any one who 
needs help. Everybody helps everybody else to raise the 
houses and do the things that no one could do alone. 

Have I told thee about the streets ? Those that run north 
and south are to be numbered : Third Street, Fourth Street, 
and so on ; but those that run east and west are to be named 
for the trees. There will be Walnut, Spruce, Pine, Chestnut, 
and others. There are seven inns already, and the innkeepers 
have all they can do, for there are so many carpenters and 
other workmen who have n't any homes. Then, too, shi23S are 

286 



TIMOTHY HOLDEN OF PENNSYLVANIA 

coming every little Avhile, and people want somewhere to stay 
till they can build their own houses. The Governor does not 
want any one but widows or men who are not strong to keep 
inns. He says that a strong, well man can do other work and 
leave the inns to those who cannot work so hard. Tamaqua 
and I have rented our house. What dost thou think of that, 
Cousin Henry ! One of the newcomers said that if we would 
let him use our cave till his house was built he would give us 
each a good saw. We told him he might use the cave, but 
father said I must not take the saw, for it Avas not brotherly 
to take advantage of one who Avas in necessity. I want to be 
brotherly, but I should like that saw, and the man has four 
others. Mother says never mind, for when I go to school 
again I shan't care so much about it. Our teacher is Master 
Enoch FloAver. Maybe he has been thy teacher, too, for he 
taught tAventy years in England. We ha\"e to pay four shil- 
lings a quarter to learn to read English. To learn to AArite 
costs tAvo shillings more; and to learn to cast accounts is tAvo 
shillings more than that; so for eight shillings a quarter Ave 
can learn CA'crything he can teach. Mother taught me to read 
and Avrite when I Avas little, but she Avants me to learn to cast 
accounts. It costs a good deal to go to school, and it does n't 
cost anything to go fishing or nutting. Father ahvays tells 
me that Ave ought not to spend money laA^shly, but he says I 
must go to school. 

There 's something else to tell thee. We have a regular 

287 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

jDOst rider once a week. What dost thou thmk of that ! We 
can send a letter from here to Chester for two pence, and 
from here to N^ewcastle for four pence. The rider jjuts a 
notice on the door of the meeting-house so people can know 
just when to bring- him their letters. Dost thou not think it is 
wonderful to have a man all ready to carry a letter for thee 
more than thirty miles ? I am afraid the rider would want a 
good many shillings if he had to carry this letter across the 
ocean. It is the longest one I ever wrote in all my life, and 
maybe thou wilt tire of reading it before thou comest to the 
end. The Governor is going back to England to bring over 
his family and help the Friends there, for he has heard that 
ever so many have been put into prison. The ship is to sail in 
a day or two, and this letter will go, too. When I began I 
thought there was n't anything to write, but now I don't know 
where to stop. I wish I could visit thee, and I want to see the 
London sights as much as ever. Still, I don't see how there 
can be anything in London finer than Pennsbury, and I am 
sure no man in England is kinder or wiser or brighter than 
our Governor. Father says I am prone to exaggeration, but 
truly this is not exaggeration, not the least wee bit of it. 

Wilt thou not write me a good long letter to send when the 
Governor comes back? 



XXI 

A Letter tvritten hy Bessie Clmton of London to 
' ' Sister Ma rgaref' 

London, June 5, 1732. 

I HAVE wanted a sister ever since I can remember. I 
used to fancy that I had one somewhere a little older 
than I. I called her " Margaret," and I thought she would 
surely come to me some day. She was not to work hard like 
mother, but to have time to sing to me and tell me stories 
when my back hurt. I thought I knew just how she looked. 
She had brown eyes and brown hair that shone when the sun- 
shine was on it. She was tall and strong and well, not little 
and lame like me ; and she could go out of doors without any 
one's helping her down the stairs. When she came in she 
would put her hand on my head and say, " Poor little sister 
Bessie ! I wish you could have gone with me." 

Once — but that was when I was very little, of course — I 
asked mother if I should n't ever have an older sister, and she 
said no. I cried that night until I went to sleep, I was so 
sorry. 

Last night I dreamed that I had a sister, and when I woke 

289 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

I thought I would write her a letter, just as if she was not 
make-believe, and it Avould seem almost as if she was real. 
That is why I am writing to yoa, and it does seem a little bit 
as if you belonged to me and had only gone away some- 
where. 

I wish you were real, there are so many things I want to 
ask you. I want to know all about our house in the country, 
where we lived before father promised to pay that money for 
his cousin. Mother told me that it was a pretty house with 
great oaks and yews and holly trees around it. The birds 
used to come there and sing. There was a fountain, too, and 
rosebushes, and in the spring violets bloomed here and there 
all through the grass. There was a garden full of flowers, 
and there was another one with peas and beans and melons 
and berries and all sorts of good things. There w^ere two men 
who worked out of doors. I had a nurse who did nothing but 
take care of me. Sometimes I think I can remember just how 
it looked ; but I suppose I cannot, for I was only a little more 
than two years old when father had to sell the house to pay 
that money, and w^e came to London. I do remember one 
thing, though, I am sure of it. It w^as of father's lifting me 
up into a great apple tree covered with pink and white blos- 
soms, and I picked both hands full. There are so many ques- 
tions I want to ask about our home; but father never si^eaks 
of it, and whenever mother does it always makes her cry. 

We had four rooms when Ave first came to London, and 

290 



BESSIE CLINTON OF LONDON 

from one of them I could see a green tree away down the 
street if I leaned very far over the sill. That was so pleasant; 
but after a while we moved to a place where we had three 
rooms, and now we have only two, or rather, one little room 
and a sort of closet. Mother sits by the lightest window and 
sews all day long when she can get any sewing to do. I 
thread her needles and pull out the basting threads, and some- 
times, when the work is very coarse, she will let me help her 
sew. She will not let me sew on the finer Avork, for, she says, 
if it is not very well done indeed she will not have any pay 
and she won't be able to get any more work, and then we 
should surely starve. 

We have been very hungry sometimes. I can tell you about 
it because you are my sister, even if you are only a make- 
believe sister. We have n't had an}i;hing but bread for a good 
while; but it does seem so good when we have enough or 
almost enough of that. Father is always trying to find work. 
When we came to London he thought it Avould be easy to 
make some money and then we could go back to our old 
home. He tried and tried, but we grew poorer all the time. 
Then he helped to unload ships, he sold shoe-laces on the 
streets, and he helped a bricklayer till the man had n't any 
more work for him. Once he worked in a place where they 
printed a newspaper. They were willing he should have the 
bits of Avhite paper that were left, and mother taught me to 
write on them. She taught me to read in '' Robinson Crusoe." 

291 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

We used to have some more books, but they have all been 
sold. Mr. Defoe's name is written in this one. When I was a 
baby, father came up to London, and he saw '' Robinson 
Crusoe " in a bookstall. The bookseller told him it was selling 
as fast as it could be printed. " There is Mr. Defoe now," he 
said. " He is crossing the street, and if he comes in I will 
present you to him." He did come in. He wrote his name in 
the book to please father. Then he looked at the picture of 
Robinson Crusoe on the fii'st page and said, " Happy man, to 
have lived so long away from the wrongs and injustice of 
the English law." He told father that a friend of his had just 
been sent to prison because he could not pay some money that 
he owed. "All debtors are not knaves," Mr. Defoe declared, 
"and some day this country will find it out." Father has told 
us about it ever so many times, and he thinks so much of that 
book. I do hope we shall not have to sell it; but on the days 
when we have n't anything to eat I am almost willing to let it 
go. Father owes the baker some money and so he does not 
like to let us have any more bread. Sometimes he will give 
us a stale loaf, but sometimes he gets angry and screams, 
" N^o, you '11 get no more bread from my oven. Pay for what 
you have had if you want any more." One day last week he 
was dreadful. He cried, " NTo ; it 's beggars like you that ruin 
honest men like me. You ought to be in prison, and if you 
don't pay me what you owe me I '11 put yoii in the Fleet, I 
vow I will." Father's face was white as it could be when he 

292 



BESSIE CLINTON OF LONDON 

came home, and mother and I were so frightened that we 
forgot all al)ont the bread. Father told us what the baker 
said, and mother cried, " He could n't be so ci'uel, he could n't. 




DANIEL DEFOE 



He knows we mean to pnj him just as soon as we can." 
"Better men than I have been in the Fleet," said father, "but 
I believe it would kill me to go there." " Could n't we ask 
some one to help us ? " said mother; and father replied, " Oh, 
Mary, I could n't, I could n't go to any of our old friends. I 

293 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

could n't bear it to have them know about ns. There was one 
man I would have gone to, and that was Daniel Defoe, but 
he 's been dead for a year. Xo, there is no one to help us ; we 
must bear whatever our fate may bring." 

We did not have anything to eat that night. The next day 
father walked all day long up and down the streets, trying to 
find some woi'k to do. Just before dark a gentleman asked 
him to hold his horse, and when he was ready to go he tossed 
him some money. Father supposed it would be a penny, but 
it was a whole silver shilling. He hurried to the baker's and 
gave him sixpence. Then he bought a loaf of bread and 
brought it home to us. I wish I could do something to earn 
money. I could sell pins on the street maybe, if I could walk 
more than a little at a time, only mother would never let me. 
She would not let me play with the children on the other 
floors in the house with us when I was little, and when the}^ 
saw me they used to call out, " Proudie ! Proudie ! " Maybe 
that 's why I wanted a sister so badly. It seems as if there 
ought to be some work that even a lame girl could do to earn 
something, but there is n't any one to ask. Oh, if you were 
only a real sister Margaret, how glad I should be. It almost 
seems as if you were when I am writing, and I am going to 
tell you the one thing that I should rather do than anything 
else. I 'd like to go with father and mother in a ship far and 
far away from the prison and the baker and the little dark 
room to some big light place where we could live and alwa3^s 

294 



^--^ BESSIE CLINTON OF LONDON 

have enough to eat. Father would plant a garden just as 
Robinson Crusoe did, and we should be so happy together. I 
suppose you would never be real, but I should keep thinking 
of 3'ou as if you were, and I am almost sure that I should 
keep on Avriting letters to you. 



XXII 

A Second Letter from Bessie Clinton to '^Sister 

Margaret '' 



O71 Board the Ship Anne, 
January 2, 1733. 

IXEVER was SO happy in all my life. Only think, we are 
going to live in a new and wonderful country just as 
Robinson Crusoe did ! We are going to have a house and a 
garden and flowers and trees. I asked Governor Oglethorpe 
if there were any trees in Georgia, and he laughed and said 
maybe I should think there was not much besides. He has 
been very good to me. Everybody is good and kind, and 
some one is always ready to help me. Mother never cries 
now, and father is as happy as he can be. Most of the men 
on board have always lived in the city and do not loiow much 
about planting, and they are never tired of talking with him 
about it. He tells us every morning what he means to have in 
our garden, and he draws little pictures of it with beets and 
peas and turnips and melons and pumpkins and potatoes all 
growing together. He will have some fields, too, and he 
means to raise hemp and flax and Indian corn. Mother and 

296 



BESSIE CLINTON OF LONDON 

Alice and I sit and knit, and father tells us over and over 
what he will do. Alice has always lived in London. Her 
father kept a bookstall; and, isn't it the strangest thing in 
the world, it was at his stall that my father bought the " Kob- 
inson Crusoe " ? Alice is a year older than I, and father says 
he remembers seeing a tiny girl playing in the back of the 
room. That makes it almost the same as if I had always known 
her. Mother likes Alice. Alice's mother is dead, and she is 
going to keep house for her father. She knows how to do 
everything. AYe are hoping that our houses will be close 
together. The '' Robinson Crusoe " was sold on one of those 
dreadful days before father met Governor Oglethorpe. I can't 
bear to think of them, but sometimes I can't help it. Father 
could n't get any work, and mother did not have any sewing 
to do, and there was nothing to eat. I looked through the 
little closet and took up every dish over and over to see if 
there w^as not just a wee bit of bread hidden somewhere. That 
was when we sold Mr. Defoe's book. We sold everything but 
the clothes we had on. The baker would not give us another 
crumb, he said, until w^e had paid for every loaf that we had 
had. We owxd for two wrecks' rent, and the landlady said we 
must leave the next day. Father came up and told us. Then 
he sat with his head hanging down as if he could never lift it 
up. Mother put her arm close around me. At last father 
looked at her and said, " It was a sad day for you, Mary, 
when you married me. I have tried my best and I have failed. 

297 



LETTERS FROxM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

There is nothing for us now but to go out on tlie streets and 
starve." Just then we heard tramping on the stairs. The door 
was thrown open and the baker and an officer came in. " That 's 
the man," the baker cried, and pointed to father. " Look at 
him now, will 3^ou ! I work hard from morning till night, and 
he sits here amusing himself with his family as if he was 
quality. I '11 not feed him and his lazy folks any longer. He 
owes me three and six, and he '11 lie in the Fleet till he pays 
every farthing of it, he will." "And he owes me, he owes me 
two weeks' rent," the landlady screamed, for she had heard 
what was going on and had come up the stairs as fast as she 
could. " He '11 not stay here twenty-four hours longer." " That 
he won't," said the baker, " for he 's going straight to the 
prison." "And I've lost my rent!" the landlady almost 
shrieked. " Do you get out of my house ! " she cried to mother, 
and shook her fist at her. Mother did not seem to hear her at 
all, she was just looking at father. She threw her arms around 
his neck, but the officer pulled her away. " None of that ! " he 
said. "• We 've no time for any kissing and love-making to- 
day," and in a minute he had taken father away with him. 
Then the landlady began again. " Put on your bonnets," she 
screamed, " and your fine clothes, if you are such gentlefolks. 
You 're too good to go about with me and my girl, but you 're 
not too good to live upon me." " But we have nowhere to go 
to-night," said mother, and her voice was as quiet and gentle 
as it is when she speaks to father and me. " Won't you allow 

298 



BESSIE CLINTON OF LONDON 

us to stay here just one more week? There must be work 
somewhere that I can do, and I will try so hard to find it." 
" Xo, I won't," declared the landlad}^; "you get out this 
minute." " But surely you will not turn us into the street 
to-night. See, it is almost dark; won't you let us stay just 
until morning? You would not be able to rent the rooms 
to-night." " No, more 's the pity," the woman grumbled. " I 
ought to have sent you packing two weeks ago, and then 
they 'd be bringing me in two shillings a week. I always was 
a soft-hearted fool. I suppose you'll stay till morning; but if 
you 're not out of this house before the bell strikes ten, you '11 
go to the prison, too." Then she slammed the door and went 
downstairs. 

Mother and I sat there and did not speak. It grew darker 
and darker. I put my head in her lap, and I was so tired and 
hungry that I fell asleep. It seemed as if I had slept a long 
while when steps on the stair woke me. I heard the door flung 
open, and some one called, " Mary ! Bessie ! where are 3^ou ? " 
It was father. 

Father told us that when they came to the prison they met 
two gentlemen who seemed to have just come out. Both of 
them had kind, good faces; but one was very tall and hand- 
some and walked like a soldier. That was my dear Governor 
Oglethorpe. They stopped and looked at father a moment, and 
he heard the other man say softly, " Colonel, if I mistake not, 
here is one of the very sort." The Governor replied, " True. 

299 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

Supposing we were to make a beginning right here, an earnest 
of what we mean to do for many men a little later ? " Then 
he asked the officer if they might speak with his prisoner for 
a few minutes. The baker grumbled, but the officer touched 
his cap and said, " Whatever your honor pleases." They took 
father one side and asked him all abont what he owed, where 
he used to live, and how he came to be in such need. They 
were so kind and friendly that he told them everything. They 
asked him how he would like to cross the ocean and go to a 
new country, have land and a house freely given him. The 
baker caught what they were saying and he burst in with, 
" Indeed, you '11 not take my debtor out of the country before 
my very eyes. I'll have my three and six for all the fine 
gentlemen in London." ''He owes you three and six, then?" 
asked the Governor; "and is there any way for him to pay it 
if he is in jail?" " ]S^o," growled the baker; "but I'll not 
have him free to go about and enjoy himself." " But you 
would like to have your money. Is there not more chance of 
your getting it if you allow him to go to a new country where 
he can have work ? There are thousands of men in London 
who cannot find anything to do, and even if they succeed they 
have but a shilling a day. In America a man can earn three 
shilhngs." " Yes, I stay here and toil and moil and let him go 
off to America to be a rich man ! I '11 do no such thing. Per- 
haps your honor will pay the little debt ? " Governor Ogle- 
thorpe said, " 'No, I shall not pay it. Listen to me. If you put 

300 




OGLETHORPE 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

this man in prison you get nothing; if you allow him to go 
where he can find work you will probably get your money. 
Which do you choose ? " The baker thought a while, then he 
snarled out, " Take him if you want him," and went away 
grumbling. 

CTOvernor Oglethorpe told father more about the new coun- 
try. He said the settlers w^ould not have an easy life ; that 
land would be given them, but a large part of it was covered 
with trees, and much hai*d work must be done before it would 
be fit for planting. " We will give you provisions for a year 
and tools to work with, and we will help you to build yourself 
a house," he said ; " but you will have to meet much hard- 
ship. There is danger, too. It may be that we shall not succeed 
in gaining the friendship of the Indians; and, moreover, 
Georgia will be the colony nearest to the Si^aniards of Florida. 
There must be military drill; there must be long nights of 
watching; there may be fighting, and possibly even death. 
On the other hand, the soil is so rich that it yields a hun- 
dred-fold if you barely scratch the ground. The woods are 
alive with game and the rivers with fish. The first years will 
be full of hard work, it is true ; but it will be for yourself and 
your family. You will call no one master, and there will be 
no prison for honest men." 

Father told him he would be only too glad to go. Then 
the Governor said he thought he could arrange matters so he 
would not have to go into the jail even for the night. He 

302 



BESSIE CLINTON OF LONDON 

asked more about what father could do, and at last he said, 
" The vessel will not sail for some months yet, but we have 
need of much assistance. Come to me to-morrow morning and 
I think I can find woi'k for you. Perhaps it would be better 
to pay you your first day's wages to-night," and he gave him 
three shillings. '" I am not often mistaken in a man," he said, 
" and I do not believe it Avill be long before you will be the 
hirer instead of the hired." He went back into the jail, and very 
soon a man came out and told the officer to let father go. 

Oh, we were so glad to have him with us again! We 
could n't talk of anything but America and what we should 
do when we were once in Georgia. Father worked for Gov- 
ernor Oglethorpe till November. Then we went to Gravesend 
and came on board the vessel with the other settlers. By and 
by some of the trustees came to see us, and they told us that 
Governor Oglethorpe had decided to go with us, and that he 
would stay in Georgia until we were settled and comfortable. 
Every one was delighted, for he is so good to us that we all 
love him. Just think, he is a rich man, and he has a beautiful 
home in England, and he has left it to come to Georgia with 
us! He planned it all and got the money to pay for our 
coming. I know now how horrible the prison is, and what 
should we have done if father had had to go there ! They put 
thieves and pirates and murderers into the same room with 
men who have lost money trying to help some one else, as he 
did. If the debtors will not give presents to the warden, some- 

303 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

times he puts heavy irons on their legs so tight that the poor 
men are lame all the rest of their lives. Sometimes he screws 
iron collars about their necks until their eyes almost start out 
of their heads. One of Governor Oglethorpe's own friends was 
shut up there because he owed some money. He would n't 
make presents to the warden, and so he was put into a place 
where there was smallpox, and he took it and died. AVhen 
Governor Oglethorpe knew about it he determined to do 
something to aid people who could not help being poor. He 
told Parliament how prisoners were treated, and then he told 
them about his plan to carry some poor families to America, 
give them land, and help them make homes for themselves. 
Parliament gave him ten thousand pounds, and a great many 
other people gave besides. Thomas Penn, who is governor 
of a Quaker colony in America, sent a gift of one hundred 
pounds. CTOvernor Oglethorpe has been so good to us on the 
ship. He brought his own food aboard, but he has not kept it 
for himself; whenever peoj^le were sick he always carried 
them some of his good things, and most of the way he had 
the same food that we did. We have been on the water seven 
weeks, and the Governor says he hopes that in a w eek more 
we shall come to Charleston. 

I asked mother if she thought it was foolish to write to a 
make-believe sister, and she said no, she was glad I was doing 
it. She told me to write just as much as I could, so that when 
I was ever so much older and had forgotten about these days, 

304 



BESSIE CLINTON OF LONDON 

I could read what I had written. As if I could ever forget 
about Governor Oglethorpe's saving my father from that 
dreadful prison and bringing us to America ! 

There 's something else that makes me happy besides com- 
ing to Georgia and knowing Atice : my back doesn't ache 
nearly so much as it used to, an\l I 've really walked a long 
way alone on the deck two or three times. 

Alice has promised to be my sister always; but I shan't 
ever forget my dear make-believe sister, and I shall write you 
a long, long letter by and by. 



XXIII 

xi Third Letter from Bessie Clinton to ^^ Sister 

Marfjaret " 

Savannah in Georgia, 
March 10, 1734. 

WE are in onr own house, and no one can turn us out foi- 
not paying tlie rent. There is so much to tell that I 
hardly know where to begin. Alice — she has just come in — 
says begin anywhere, only don't forget to put her in. 

We have been in Georgia more than a year. Oh, we did so 
long to see the land, and those last days on the boat I felt as 
if I could n't wait. Alice and I used to get just as far up in the 
bow^ as we could and watch and watch. Alice's father laughed 
at us, and asked if we thought we had better eyes than the 
lookout. I am sure we looked as closely as any one could, but 
he called out, " Land ahead ! " before we dreamed that it was 
anywhere near. Even then I did not really believe it was 
shore, for it did not look anything like the cliffs of England. 
It was only a long, low, bluish cloud just above the Avater. 
Alice and I both thought it looked a good deal more like a 
London fog than like good firm land that we could stand on; 

306 



BESSIE CLINTON OF SAVANNAH 

but we watched it just the same, and after a while we could 
see that the upper part was darker than the lower. Then the 
upper part began to look green and the lower part yellow, and 
we had to believe that our London fog was made up of trees 
and sandy shore. The ship anchored, for we were not far 
from Charleston. Away np the bay, or river, we could see 
houses. The land is so low that they looked as if they were 
floating on the water. Governor Oglethor]3e called us together 
on deck, and we all kneeled down while Mr. Herbert, our 
chaplain, prayed and thanked God that we had had a safe 








CHARLESTON IN 1742 



voyage and were come to the land Avhere every honest man 
might find work and a home. Then the Governor went ashore 
to see the Governor of Soutli Carolina. The next morning the 
king's pilot came aboard to show us the way to Beaufort. 

307 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

Governor Oglethorpe and some gentlemen from Charleston 
went on farther to choose a place for our settlement. It was 
funn}^ enough to watch the people go ashore. We had been 
on the water so long that they staggered when they stepped 
out of the little boats, and some of them could not w^alk much 
better than I. I did n't have to try to walk, for Alice's father 
and mine lifted me up and carried me ashore. There were 
some settlers in Beaufort, and they all came out to Avel- 
come us. 

It did not seem at all like coming to a strange land. The 
Charleston people had n't ever seen us, but they sent word 
that they had a present for us and would forward it as soon 
as w^e had chosen a place for a town. You would never guess 
what it was: it was twenty barrels of rice, a great herd of 
cattle, and pigs enough to give one apiece to half the families 
in the settlement. The Beaufort people were as friendly as if 
they had alwa^^s known us. After Governor Oglethorpe came 
back, w^e all had a feast together; for he gave us turkeys and 
fowls and hogs and beef, a big supply of wine, and a whole 
hogshead of beer. 

The Governor told us a little about the place where we 
were to live. He said it would be called Savannah because it 
was on the Savannah River. The bank, he said, was steep and 
high, and there were woods on both sides of the rivei- for a 
great many miles. There were Indians two or three miles 
away, but he thought they would be fi-iendly. I did so want 

308 



BESSIE CLINTON OF SAVANNAH 

to see an Indian, but I never expected to sit on the same 
bench with one in chnrch. 

We were all in a hnny to get to Savannah, and as soon as 
the feast was over we went on board a sloop and some peria- 
guas — that 's a queer sort of boat, flat-bottomed and so nar- 
row that it can go anywhere — and went np the Savannah 
River. I wondered whether our own old home, that I cannot 
remember, was any more beautiful than Georgia. The water 
was so l)lue and the sunshine so bright that I don't believe 
Kobinson Crusoe's island was half so delightful. It was Jan- 
uary then, and so there were no flowers: but I could see 
masses of jasmine vines that some one at Beaufort had told 
mother would soon be all ablaze with the sweetest yellow 
blossoms she could imagine. There were evergreen trees of 
ever so many kinds, and a soft gray moss hung from their 
branches. After a while we came to a smooth, Avhite, sandy 
beach. It looked so clean and hard that I said I wished I could 
walk on it. " So you can," said Alice. " Look ! the sloop is 
steering towards it, and there is the high bank, and there are 
the woods on both sides of the river, just as Governor Ogle- 
thorpe said. It is surely Savannah." And so it was. 

I was so glad we were there, and yet I could n't help feel- 
ing strange and lonesome. If there had been just one person 
who was glad to see us, it would have been different; but the 
land did not look as if it cared to have us dig it up and cut 
its trees down. Everything was growing as if it had a right 

309 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

to its own place and there was no room for us. CTOvernor 
Oglethorpe thinks there will be a great city here some day.; 
but when we were in the boats and looked up at the bluff over 
our heads, it did not seem as if there Avould ever be even the 
tiniest little village. 

I wonder what I should have done if some one had said, 
" Now, Bessie, begin your settlement." But Governor Ogle- 
thorpe seemed to know what to do without stopping to think, 
and we were no sooner at the top of the bluff than he called, 
" ISTow men, there is Avork for every one. It will soon be 
nig-ht, and we must have shelter. Tents first." The tents had 
been rolled in tight bundles, and it did not seem any time at 
all before four had been put up. " They are for the mothers 
and the little children," the Governor said. " Those are our 
palaces. Now for the cottages." He had brought some work- 
men with him from Charleston to help us and teach our men, 
foi- a good many of them did not seem to have any idea how 
to use an axe or a saw. They all went to work, however, and 
tried their very best. Some of them cut down big boughs 
from the trees for forked poles. The boys trimmed off the 
little branches with hatchets. Then the men drove them into 
the ground in cou])les a little way apart, each couple twenty or 
thirty feet from the next, and laid other poles across them, 
resting in the crotches. All this time the little boys were gath- 
ering dry leaves and twigs for the fires, and mother and the 
other women were hard at work cooking and opening the great 

310 



BESSIE CLINTON OF SAVANNAH 

bundles of blankets. They spread these over the poles, and 
there were the shelters. Before dark there were enough of 
these shelters for us all, and we were glad to lie down under 
them and go to sleep. Governor Oglethorpe had had a great 










^'\cM 




yAVAXNA.H IN 1741 



watchfire kindled, and that was bright and cheery; but you 
do not know how strange it seemed to lie there on the ground 
with the fire blazing and the stars blinking doAvn through the 
trees. Governor Oglethorpe posted sentinels; but once, when I 
woke in the night, I saw him walking around the camp. When 
he came near us the firelight shone on his face, r.nd I thought 
I had never seen any one look so happy. If I were a man, I 
should want to be just such an one as he is. 

The next morning there was plenty of work for everybody, 
and how things did whirl ! Every one but me seemed to have 

311 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

something to do. I suppose I looked forlorn, for CTOvernor 
Oglethorpe called, " What is the matter, Bessie? Do you wish 
you were in England? " I said '" No, but I wish I could do 
something to help." " I '11 find you some work," he cried over 
his shoulder, and hurried on to the shore where they were 
building a crane to lift the goods from the boats up the bluff. 
The Governor never forgets, and pretty soon one of the boys 
brought me a basket of seeds of different kinds, and said they 
had got mixed, and Governor Oglethorpe wanted me to ]3ick 
them over and put those of a kind together. I was so glad to 
do something that Avould help, and not be the only idle one in 
Savannah. When the men were well started at unloading the 
boats, the Governor left them and began to mark out where 
the town was to be. As he went by me he said, " Happy now, 
are n't you ? That will save a good deal of time by and by." 
He really made me feel as if the little bit that I had done 
would help ever and ever so much in building the city. Just as 
soon as the town was marked out, the men began to cut doAvn 
trees; and every little while I could hear some great tree fall 
to the ground. The saws were buzzing all the time, cutting 
boards and timbers, and it w^as only a little more than a week 
before half of the ground where the city was to be had been 
cleared and the first house begun. 

Of course our gracious king had given C4overnor Ogle- 
thorpe the land for our colony, but he meant to make sure 
that the Indians were willing, so, as soon as everybody was at 

312 



BESSIE CLINTON OF SAVANNAH 

work and knew just what to do next, he started to go up the 
river where there Avas a httle Indian village two or three miles 
away. An Indian woman who had married an English trader 
went with him as interpreter. We all went to the top of the 
bluff to see him start. He waved his hat and bowed, and we 
shouted, " Good-by ! Good luck I '' Then the men began to 
row, and the workmen all hurried away to get as much done 
as they could before he came back. Alice said she wished she 
could have gone instead of the Indian woman, and her father 
has called her his " little squaw " ever since. 

You cannot think how lonesome it seemed while the Gov- 
ernor was gone. Some of the people call him " Father Ogle- 
thorpe," and it really felt almost as if a father had gone away. 
It was about sunset when he came back, and we were glad 
enough to see him. As soon as he was fairly up the bank, w^e 
all gathei'ed around him and asked how the Indians had be- 
haved. '• They welcomed me like a brother," he replied. " The 
chief, or Mico, is Tomo-chi-chi. They say he is ninety years 
old, but he does not seem more than sixty. AVe greeted each 
other. Then I told him that I and some of my people had 
come to his country to live, that we hoped he would not be 
sorry, but that we should buy and sell of each other and 
always be good friends. He nodded gravely, then he said, ' I 
am glad that you have come. The Englishmen are wiser than 
the red men. The Great Father has given more knowledge to 
them than to us. We wish to be Hke you, to be subjects of 

313 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

the same king, to be with you as brothers. We wish to have 
lands among- your lands, to send our children to learn with 
your children. We wish to learn what the Great Father has 
taught you.' Then he brought forward a bright-faced little 
boy and said, ' This is Tooanhowi. He is the son of my 
brother. When I am gone he will be chief of my tribe.' He 
said that his tribe was small, but that there were two other 
tribes not far away that were large and powerful. He will 
arrange for some of their chief men to come here to meet 
me." 

I wanted so much to see an Indian before we came, but I 
did feel a little bit afraid when canoes full of Indians began 
to come down the river and the men landed just below our 
bluff. They marched straight into the settlement and asked 
for " the Great Man." I should not have felt afraid if he had 
been here, but he had gone to Charleston. The Indians said 
nothing, but went off a little way, built some wigwams, and 
evidently meant to wait till he had come back. There were at 
least fifty of them, and I think more men than were on guard 
kept awake that night. 

Governor Oglethorpe came the next day and went right to 
their camp. Father said he greeted those Indians as if they 
were princes, and asked them to hold a council with him. 
They went into one of our new houses. There was not much 
room for any one else, l:)ut a few of our people were there, 
and my father was one of them. It was two or three hours 

314 







OGLETHOUl-E IIECEIVIXG THE INDIANS 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

before they came out. We could hear them talking, but Ave 
could not tell what was said. AVhen it was all over, the In- 
dians walked away in single file. CKOvernor Oglethorpe came 
out first, and then the others, bringing some great bundles and 
a skin of shaggy brown fur. When father came, he declared 
he would rather have seen that meeting than the opening of 
Parliament and the Lord Mayor's procession, too. He said that 
after the Indians were all seated, the Clovernor told them just 
what he had told Tomo-chi-chi, that he wanted to be good 
friends with them, to have some of their land, and to trade 
with them. Then he sat down. For a little while no one spoke. 
Then a handsome Lidian, almost tall enough to be a giant, 
rose and made a speech. "We are ignorant," he said, "but 
the same Great Spirit made both us and you. We believe that 
He has sent you to teach us, and therefore we give you freely 
all the land that we ourselves do not need. We are from the 
eight towns of our tribe. Our wealth is in buckskins, and each 
town has sent you a roll of them." Then he laid eight bundles 
of skins at the Governor's feet. 

Tomo-chi-chi had brought his gift, too. He held up the 
skin of a buffalo, painted on the inside with the head and 
feathers of an eagle, and said, " Here is a little present. The 
English are swift like the eagle, for they can fly over the vast 
seas. They are strong like the buffalo, for nothing can with- 
stand them. The feathers of the eagle are soft, and signify 
love; the skin of the buffalo is warm, and signifies protection; 

316 



BESSIE CLINTON OF SAVANNAH 

therefore I hope that you Avill love and protect our httle 
famiHes." After that they talked about trading and made a 
list of prices. A gun is to cost ten buckskins; sixty bullets, 
one buckskin; an axe or a hoe, two; a brass kettle, one buck- 
skin a pound. Then the Governor made his presents. He gave 
every chief a laced coat and a hat and a shii-t. To the other 
great folk of the tribe he gave either a gun with ammunition 
or else a mantle of coarse, heavy cloth. Every one had some 
gift, and father said they seemed delighted enough when they 
said farewell. 

Tomo-chi-chi and his Indians are so near that they come to 
see us very often. Just as soon as he could. Governor Ogle- 
thorpe had a place set off to teach the children, and Tooan- 
hoAvi came every day to learn " what the white boys learn," as 
he said. He and his uncle both come to church every Sunday. 
Father thinks Tomo-chi-chi is about as wise as any white man 
he ever saw. He certainly knows how to make his Indians do 
what he wishes. One day not long after the council a Charles- 
ton boatman got drunk and beat an Indian named Fonseka. 
" Tie him to a cannon till he is sober," said the Governor, " and 
then he must be whipped." "IS'o, do not whip him," Tomo- 
chi-chi pleaded. '^ If Fonseka, too, asks for his pardon he shall 
not be whipped," said the Governor. Then Tomo-chi-chi went 
to the Indian who had been beaten and urged him to ask for 
the man's pardon. " Xo," declared Fonseka, " he beat me. Let 
the Great Man beat him." Then the chief said, " But, Fonseka, 

317 



LETTERS FROM COLONIAL CHILDREN 

you like to get drunk, too, and when you are drunk you quar- 
rel. Some day you will quarrel wdth an Englishman and beat 
him; and then, if this man is beaten now, the Governor will 
say you must be beaten." Then Fonseka agreed to beg that 
the man might be pardoned, and they asked the Governor to 
let them untie him. 

My dear make-believe sister, Alice has read this letter and 
she declares that I have left out all the things that I ought 
to have put in. She says I certainly ought to write about 
the public garden that Governor Oglethorpe has laid out, 
where he j^lanted pears and apples and olives; and in the 
warmest part coffee, cotton, and cocoanuts, to see if they 
would not grow here. She says, too, that I ought to say that the 
Governor lived in a tent under four great pine trees for almost 
a year, and that even now his house is not nearly so good as 
the others ; that I must not leave out the rattlesnakes, the mos- 
quitoes that bite through buckskin, and the alligators that 
stare at the boats, or lie w^ith their noses just above the water, 
swallowing whatever floats into their mouths, even bits of 
wood. Father asked if I had put in anything about the drill, 
and said I must be sure to write what good soldiers the men 
are becoming, and that we should not be the least bit afraid 
now even if the Spaniards did come up from Florida and try 
to " wipe out the English," as they say they will. He says, 
too, that I must not forget to tell how much wine we hope to 
make before many years have gone, and how rich we expect 

318 



BESSIE CLINTON OF SAVANNAH 

to become from that and from raising silkworms. I did not 
forget the silkworms, but I kept them until the last, because 
that is the very best of all, except one other thing. Governor 
Oglethorpe kncAV before we came that mulberry trees grow 
wild here, and so he brought silkworms ; and he thinks it will 
not be long before we can send thousands of pounds' worth of 
silk to England. He brought a family of Italians to Georgia 
to teach us how to take care of the worms and wind the silk; 
and, even if I am a helpless little lame girl, I can take care of 
silkworms as well as any one. The other thing, the very best 
of all, is that maybe I shall not always be a " helpless little 
lame girl." A good many people have been here to visit our 
colony, and last week Governor Oglethorpe brought one of 
them to our house to show him my silkworms. He hardly 
looked at them, but began to ask me about my being lame. 
He asked at least a score of questions, and he looked pleased 
with everything I said. He went away that night; but Gov- 
ernor Oglethorpe told father in the morning that his friend 
was a very skillful physician. " He expects to come here 
again within a year," he said, " and he told me he was almost 
sure that he could cure the lameness of the ' little silky girl,' 
as he called her." There can never be anything better than 
that to put into a letter, so I '11 not write another word. 



(2Efte BiViECjSiDE prcs? 

CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS 
U . S . A 



H 15 88 »i 



I 





